NOT 

SUFFICIENT 

FUNDS 



A Comedy in Five Acts 

-BY- 

DR. HOWARD D. KING 



NEW ORLEANS 
1919 



!9I9 



NOT 

SUFFICIENT 

FUNDS 



A Comedy in Five Acts 

-BY- 

DR. HOWARD D. KING 



NEW ORLEANS 
1919 






DRAMATIS PERSON AE ^ 



JIMMY FORBES — A sportily- inclined young English chap, who is 
making his "after the war" holiday in the United 
States a rather warm atrair. 



GEORGE HAMMOND WILLIS— A pessimistic, gloomy old grouch. 



MRS. GEORGE HAMMOND WILLIS— Wife. Old, but inclined to be 

gay and youthful. 



ARTHUR THORNTON WILLIS— Son of Mr. and Mrs. George Ham- 
mond Willis. Young American sol- 
diei awaiting discharge. 



GRACE LLOYD— Ward of Willis, Sr., and an heiress in her own righi". 



AIAE TUCKERMAN — A sweet Irish maid, passing as the daughter of 

Willis, Sr.. 



BOZIE — Valet and personal attendant to Jimmy Forbes. 
TOMMY FLEET— Butler to Jimmv Forbes. 



SIR BRIDGEWATER FORBES— An Englishman of title, and uncle 

'to ^Jimmy Forbes. 



CAPTAIN MATTHEW JOHN SAUNDERS— A windy, lying political 

fraud. 



MAC NEAL — Half-paid man-servant to Captain Saunders. 

NORAH— Irish maid. 

CAPTAIN SIDNEY MIOTON— French Ace. 



MRS. SIDNEY MIOTON— Real daughter of Willis, Sr,, and wife of 

Captain Mioton. 



SHERIFFS, PORTER, AND PREACHER, ETC. 
©-I.D 51148 



TMP96-C066C8 



NOT SUFFICIENT FUNDS 

A COMEDY IN FIVE ACTS 

Scene— Lounging room in the home of Jimmy Forbes. 

Place — Riverside Drive, New York City. 

Enter: Hon. Bridgewater Forbes, (first), Bozie (second). 

Hon. B. Forbes: (Drawing off and folding glove.) Jolly clever 
my man! Don't go stammering a lot of fo^l/Pf^^S'}^^; ^^^ouj "" A ^en' 
ing candor is, indeed, refreshing. You're a faithful old dog A gen- 
tleman's servant can say whatever he damn well pleases when he is 

''^^Bo'iie: (Moving about setting things straight.) I can't help be- 
ing candid, and a bit out of temper, too when I hear yo^^alk^f cut- 
ting Master Jimmy loose without a shilling. The very idea of disin- 
heriting him IS enough to drive me crazy. My master is the finest 
young man as ever left the British Empire! Why, the whole of Broad- 
way loves the very ground he walks upon! J 1 i.- 
Hon. B. Forbes: (Pulling on moustache, and, elevating eye- 
brows.) Every man is a hero to his ovvti servant Enough of your 
palavering! Broadway has but one love and that's the dollar sign 
The whole truth of the matter is that Master Jimmy loves Broadway. 
Bozie: (With signs of resentment and holding poker like a baton.) 
Well, as a part of the world, he loves you well enough, though he was 

no higher'n a duck when he last saw you. • , nf ,x.T,of 

Hon B. Forbes: (Pulling on moustache and frowning.) Ut wnat 

significance is his love to me? You certainly can't expect me to be 

proud of his affections when I must share it with prize-fighters, chorus 

girls, and bartenders. _ ^ -- -4. \ r»v, t 

Bozie: (Shaking finger and executing a fancy sort of gait.) Uh. 
Oh! I dare sav, he is a bit gay and frolicsome; that he is too much ot 
an all round friend; that he is too ready to laugh with you, and^the 
next minute too ready to weep with you— but for all o that he s a 
man's man. He will buy you wine to-day, and if need be wear a crepe 
for you to-morrow. But forsooth, I must ask under whose instruc- 
tions was Master Jimmy evolved ? ^ „ 
Hon B. Forbes: (Pulls moustache, arches eyebrows, puts on 
glasses. ■ Contemptuous sulk.) What's that? You mean to say 1 
km responsible for his being a gay and dissipated idler! Why, the 
very idea ' All of my communications to him contamed the most use- 
ful of advice. Advice such as might prevent him from becoming the 
gay bird he really is. To think of a Forbes, a Forbes of Kent being 
known as the King of Broadway! Why, everybody refers to him as 
if he were a champagne label. v ,c t j > „^,„^ 

Bozie: (Dead stop— in center of stage.) My Lord, you re going 
a bit too fast, I say! And a bit too hard on my young master, you 
are that. Sir! It is sorry I am that you wrote him at all from London, 
or Rio, as whatever your letters contained aside from the good advice, 
it served to spoil the master. He rejected the advice, and always 
cusiicd. tliG cliGcks' 

Hon. B. Forbes: (Regarding Bozie in a contemptuous and depre- 
catory manner.) Enough now of his faults. Fh hear no more. His 
faults are in no wise trecaable to me. Why, the young fool has im- 
bibed a vicious philosophy. His generosity and open-handedness are 

— 1 — 



due to timidity — he is fearful of wounding the beggar's feelings, and 
thus is an easy victim for every rottei- he meets. 

Bozie: (Ingratiating leer.) Where he gets his faults and vicious 
ways from I do not know; but I am certain as to where his generous 
virtues come from. From you, Sir, he gets his generous ways! 

Hon. B. Forbes: (Hands money to Bozie with an expressive facial 
movement.) You're a decent old chap at that, Bozie! 

Bozie: (In a most obeisant fashion salutes.) Thank you, Sir! 
You're a Forbes out and out. I know the family v/ell. Sir. (Aside.) A 
Five Pound Note. Why, Master Jimmy has the whole of New York on 
the string. Sir! 

Hon. B. Forbes: (Waving left hand in a listless fashion.) Tut- 
tut-tut! Rubbish, rubbish, I say, man! You mean New York has 
him on its string! For some time now, I have been keeping in the 
background, a sort of shadow man observing his wild escapades. His 
dissipation, like his escapades, seem to have no end. I have been told 
that he consumes an abnormally large amount of wine, and that he can 
stand quite a bit of hard stuff, too. Is that so ? 

Bozie: (Smilingly and dancing about library table.) He's a 
Forbes out and out. Sir! And, I dare say, you know what the Forbes' 
have done vvith drink. Sir. I never knew a P'orbes but what carried 
his drink well, Sir. Take yourself, my Lord, do you remember the 
week of the Diamond Jubilee of her Majesty, Queen Victoria? Oh! 
Oh! But wasn't that a week! You did twenty-one pints that last Sat- 
urday, not counting the Scotch and Port V/ine a 'tween times! Oh, My 
Lord, twenty-one pints, and extra dry wine at that! Oh! Oh! My Lord, 
was there ever such a night in the old house since! Twenty-one pints, 
and God knows how much Scotch! 

Hon. B. Forbes: (Severe and reproachful gaze in Bozie's direc- 
tion.) You silly ass, will you kindly cease? (Aside.) The impudent 
beggar must have counted my wine. Oh! That was a rather busy 
afternoon! Twenty-one pints! Fancy! Where's your Master now — 
Bozie ? 

Bozie: (In a most woe-be-gOne voice.) The boy's still a-bed. Sir. 
He got in with the milkman this morning. You see. Sir, some old 
blighter got rather fresh with the Master dov/n at the McAlpin, and, 
of course. Master Jimmy biffed him one on the beak, and let it go at 
that! It must have been a Johnny Bull he biffed, because he came 
home with an old Picadilly topper. 

Hon. B. Forbes: (Slyly exchanges hats.) (Aside.) For this 
outrage he shall pay dearly. (Feels his nose very tenderly.) Bozie, 
it's my idea to teach your Master a very severe lesson. A lesson he 
will never forgot! I shall work matters so that he'll be involved in a 
financial mess from which he will have a merry time getting free! 

Bozie: (Quickly.) Aye, Aye, My Lord, I vmderstand you per- 
fectly well! Master Jimmy never has sufficient funds. 

Hon, B. Forbes: (Hitting the floor with cane.) He shall be 
charged vrith some offense and forced to make bond before the District 
Attorney. And then I will buy up his open accounts and sue. In de- 
fault of payment I v/ill take a confession of immediate judgment. 
Then clap the slieriffs down upon him and his belongings! I will make 
him a prisoner in his own home! 

Bozie: (Proud and boastfully.) Aye, Aye, Sir, but he can get 
bail on any charge. Any one along Broadway will go his bond, and 
then Master Jimmy will be as free as air. 

Hon. B. Forbes: (Closes one eye knowingly at Bozie.) True 
enough, Bozie, but this time an unknown .shall sign the bond, and after 
its execution this unknown Bondsman will ask the District Attorney 

— 2 — 



to keep your Master under police surveillance. This will drive him 
indoors! Once indoors the Sheriffs detailed in the matter of the 
seizure will keep the Honorable James Forbes company, throughoui 
the day, and long' into the night. 

Bozie: (In a stooping position by fireplace.) Don't be too hard 
on the young Master! He's all I got! 

Hon. B. Forbes: Bozie, I have the money, and I am more than 
willing to spend it, and spend any amount to make him over as a 
Forbes should be! To-day he is only a remittance man! 

Bozie: Money will do anything in New York. If you spend 
enough of it I dare say they'd send Master Jimmy to the chair. 

Hon. B. Forbes: Well, I am off on my business. (EXIT.) 

* * * 

Enter — Jimmy Forbes. 

Jimmy: (Hair unkempt; morning coat buttoned wrong; one shoe 
on, the other foot covered with a slipper; cigarette drooling from lip.) ' 
Well, Old Jim Jams, what are the glad tidings on this beautiful break 
of day ? 

Bozie: (Bringing other shoe.) There are no glad tidings. 

Jimmy: Spill out the bad news. Show me the way to the corpse. 

Bozie: (Putting shoe on.) Shall breakfast be served in here, 
Sir? 

Jimmy: What in the hell time is it anyhow? 

Bozie: (Fixes coat.) It is now gone half after twelve. After- 
noon, Sir! And you have an engagement at ten! 

Jimmy: Now for breakfast! Oh, I say, a large pitcher of ice 
water will do very well. 

Bozie: (Straightens out his hair.) Anything else, Sir? 

Jimmy: Say, old Jim Jams, don't you know this is eatless day? 
I can't eat! What's that pile of mail doing over there? 

Bozie: (Aside.) I wish last night had been a drinkless night! 
You wish to read your mail, Sir? 

Jimmy: No, indeed, my good fellow! I have troubles enough. 
However, you may open them up as a matter of courtesy. 

Bozie: (Opening envelopes.) A few of our monthly valentines. 
It's the first of the month, you know. Here is a bill from the tailor, 
and with it is a very sad note. Poor old devil! And here is the sixth 
statement from that pussy-footed florist. 

Jimmy: (Leans over as if to hear.) A bill for flowers! Bozie, 
you know "Flowers are the sweetest things God ever made and forgot 
to put a soul into." 

Bozie: (Continuing reading.) No, you mean women! Oh! Oh! 
Here is a hot one from old Otto Sizeler ,the gentleman who loans us 
money. He says your note will soon have a birthday, and is giving 
him much concern! 

Jimmy: He says I am giving him much concern. (Lighting 
cigarette in indolent fashion.) Then he's really getting something! 

Bozie: (Continuing to i-ead, and looking intently at Jimmy.) 
ihis one in the long envelope is from the Gin Fizz Cafe. The man- 
ager wants to know when he can collect for the chandelier which you 
thought was a trapeze. And here is one from the Honorable Peter 
Crooke, the follow who invented the taxi-cab. 

Jimmy: Don't worry about poor old Peter Crooke, he is busy in 
New Orleans playing the ponies! 

Bozie: If Mr. Crooke is in New Orleans playing the ponies, I dare 
say he'll be soi'ely in need of funds by this time. I'd suggest that 
you send him $-50.00 on acocunt. 

Jimmv: You shock me, Bozie! (Turning around in chair with 

— 3 — 



great alacrity.) Where have I a spare $50.00? 

Bozie: The $50.00 you were sending this afternoon to the old 
man, and the kids in Trinity tenement. Sure you haven't forgotten 
that. \n(^, by the way, that's the last of your Uncle's monhly allow- 
ance! 

Jimmy: (Disgustfully.) Aw, shut up! You send that fifty 
bucks over to the old codger! You know what happens when you 
don't pay Trinity! 

Bozie: (In a whispering voice.) Sure, I knows what happens. 
The warden prays you into hell. Sir! 

Jimmy: If that was only so, I'd keep the fifty myself! They 
don't pray you anywhere. They just send you into the street to join 
the soup-line! 

Bozie: (Earnestly.) Charity begins at home, Master Jimmy. 
You should do something to relieve your own wants first! After that 
it would be time to look after those fakirs whose bluff is residence in 
a tenement! Things are far from going right, Master Jimmy, and you 
can't blame me for being out of my mind when things are not running 
smooth! 

Jimmy: (Smilingly.) No, I don't blame you for being out of 
3'our mind, but why in the devil should I go out of my mind? With 
your kind permission. Old Jim Jams, I shall maintain my composure 
and continue to be a sensible man! 

Bozie: (With a most serious mien — ^handling photograph in 
frame.) You are about the only individual who could retain his com- 
posure in the present situation of things. Everything going to the 
bow-wows! The finest girl in the United States with an awful pile 
of gold — you know who I mean — Miss Grace Lloyd, slipping away 
from you. Slipping away from your very grasp, and with your eyes 
wide open. Why, the girl is about ready to be snatched away by an- 
other! Master Jimmy, won't you wake up? 

Jimmy: (Shaking his finger at Bozie.) I'll not compete with any 
man in such a dangerous game as love. You know the saying, "LoA^e 
your neighbor, but don't tear dowTi the fence"! 

Bozie: (With hands moving about in explanatory fashion.) 
There's no fence 'tween you and your neighbor, Miss Lloyd ! Master 
Jimmy, you make me mad through and through. It is about time you 
M'ould come to your senses and realize this condition of affairs can't 
last much longer. Your uncle is about ready to cut you off; your own 
fortune exhausted; every knock at the door a collector with a bill; 
sunshine he friends and lying blood-sucking she devils; and a hovise- 
hold of drunken servants not fit for service three-quarters of thf' time. 

Jimmy: If that's ti-ue about the poor sei-v^ants, then they have a 
good reason for being in my employ! 

Bozie: A pack of dirty, drunken, blaggarding servants. And him 
what I caught stealing the plate in the pantry and selling it to Sizeler, 
the money lender! I caught him in the act. In the very act. Master 
Jimmy! 

Jimmy: (Surprised.) In the act! In the very act! Oh! well, 
turn him off with a month's wages. 

Bozie: (Loud and raucously belligerent mien.) I'll turn him off 
at the Tombs, the blaggard! We'll have Tammany send him to the 
island just as an example to dirty cockneys who won't let other 
people's plate alone! 

Jimmy: (Right hand raised protestingly.) Not this time, Bozie. 
It is enough to lose the plate. Be careful, if you punish him he will 
become a Bolshevik and attack us from a soap box as soon as he gets 
out. 

Bozie: (Querulously.) Right-o. The footman was just now 

— 4 — 



about raising a racket as to Tommy Fleet; he declares he does the 
most work and should have an increase in pay. 

Jimmy: (Hazily.) Who the de'il is Tommy Fleet? 

Bozie: (With an air of perplexity.) Why, that's the butler, and 
no good a' that! 

Jimmy: (Argumentatively.) Perhaps the footman is right, and 
it is but just he should receive more pay. Now, look who is coming, 
the butler, to complain in all probability about the footman. 

Bozie: (Resignedly.) Right-o. 

Enter — Butler (Tommy Fleet) in a drunken condition. 

Butler: Sir, your Lordship, I'll not serve in the family with Peter 
Russel, not another damn minute with Peter! You'll have to get rid 
of the miserable old blackguard, or sever relations with me! I know 
it will hurt if I should leave. Sir, but that's the short and long of the 
whole blooming mess! 

Jimmy: A most logical explanation! But can't you go moi"e fully 
into his moral shortcomings, my good old Tommy! 

Butler: The blighter drinks, and as I am a most ab-ste-mious 
indiv-i-dual Fm none too sure but that he won't corrupt my morals. He 
is given to thieving, too, I think. 

Jimmy: (Loud and prolonged laughter.) Oh, you sly old dog! 
(Aside to Bozie.) He is rather amusing! 

Bozie: He is funny — only to look at, though! 

Jimmy: You say he is given to thieving. What leads you to 
think that, sir? 

Butler: Oh! Didn't you know he was a chauffeur afore he took 
this place. The very smell of gas makes 'em all crooked. 

Jimmy : Have you done ? 

Butler: There's mystery 'bout, Sir. The wine's a disappearing 
somewhere! (Gazing fixedly at Bozie.) It's a 'tween him and, well, 
I ain't er saying nothing, but Mr. Bozie is getting awfully bloated! 

Jimmy: You have explained things in a most logical manner. Tell 
me the rest when I am not so busy. Now run along and get a nap 
before lunch. 

Bozie: Enjoy a nap. Enjoy a walloping would be more like it. 
To bed! Send him to Old Bailey for his rights. 

Butler: (Turning around from door.) Begging your pardon. 
Master Jimmy, your humble pardon, My Lord, and your pardon, too; 
(Aside to Bozie.) Old monkey face. I'll not go to bed, nor will 1 
agree to see old Bailey! There's plenty of work for me below watch- 
ing those as who sneak in the cellar. It nearly slipped my mind, your 
Loidship, but Mr. Willy, Mr. Willi-s, is waiting. I came to tell you of 
his presence. 

Jimmy: Why didn't you announce him ere this, you blithering' 
nincompoop? 

Butler: Announce him. Sir! With all my soul, Sir. Announce 
him or denounce him, or renounce him, whatever you \\Tsh, My Lord! 

Bozie: (Moving break^a.st tray from table to t?a-wagon.) 'Tis a 
devil of a family, the Willis'. From breakfast to prayer time they're 
running in and out of this house. I dare say he is here again on the 
same old tack. The love affair between his goggle-eyed swank of a son. 
that's just returned from London, and Miss Lloyd, the young lady 
whose estate is being managed by his chuckle-headed Governor! 

Jimmy: Your allusions are too personal! (Aside.) But I guess 
he is right for all that! Willis does seem bent on using my friendship 
for this girl to advance the interests of his son Arthur. Oh, well, 
perhaps, at that, I am doing old Willis a grave injustice. 

Bozie: (Persuasively.) Master Jimmy, why don't you use your 

— 5 — 



friendship for your own good self, and let the Willis crowd go to , 

ah, you know where! With such a fine girl I'd try and make that 
friendship something stronger than just friendship. Why, my little 
fellow, the girl loves you! 

Jimmy: (Dreamily. Watching the curls of smoke from cigar- 
ette.) Love me, did you say, Bozie? Love me! Who, me? Bozie, 
old fellow, you're dreaming. Her friendship for me is friendship — 
nothing more — nothing less! It's a wonder that she has even friend- 
ship for a fellow like me! That she is a fine girl goes without say- 
ing! A girl like her cannot help arousing in the human heart a desire 
for possession. But, never will I make her unhappy by even breathing 
that I love her! Why, old man, just between us two, I worship her! 
God knows I love her! Your master realizes this day hov^^ unworthy, 
how far beneath this bright angel he is. Well — Bozie — don't go a 
blubbering about my troubles. It'll all come right somehow. I'll 
serve her, and try to secure her happiness, even if it destroys my own. 
Bozie: (On the verge of tears. Raising shades to admit sun- 
light.) I'm a thinking you're in need of a bit of this fresh air and sun- 
light. You're getting blue. (Aside.) The lad is quite balmy. 

Jimmy: Oh, I say there, Bozie, do you think even though I was 
successful in wooing the young lady that I would be lucky enough to 
get by that grouchy old guardian of hers, Willis, or Madame Willis ? 
You yourself know that while they are the nicest kind of people, they 
are, to say the least, peculiar! 

Bozie: (Ironically, very much so.) Peculiar, peculiar, did you 
say? Yes, and New York State keeps a mighty fine hotel for such 
peculiar people! They're peculiarly crazy. Peculiar, that's a new 
word for it. They're baffy through and through. 

Jimmy: (Advancing rapidly towards Bozie.) Sh — sh — Shoo, 
shoo sh, man, be careful! He's in the hall now. He'll hear that big 
mouth of you7-s. 

Bozie: (Backing away from Jimmy.) The sour, musty-faced old 
weeper! 

Jimmy: (Hands in air, waving Bozie out of room.) Beat it! 
Get out! Beat it! 

Bozie: The sucked-out lemon fruit! A regular Gloomy Gus! A 
sure-enough poison label! (Jimmy claps his hand over Bozie's mouth, 
and shoves him through the door leading into the sleeping chamber.) 
Jimmy: Bozie tells the truth about Willis, but what can I do with 
the pessimistic old grouch ? A regular gloom. He does get on my 
nerves, and here he is again! The very sight of him makes me sick! 
Ha, ha, ha. There is my old pal — Ha, ha-a, ha-a. My dear old friend 
Willis — I am charmed to see you! Where have you been keeping your- 
self? 

Enter— Willis. 
Willis: Good morning, Mr. Forbes. The greetings of the day and 
many of them. May the Lord preserve you whole and intact. Oh, 
how are you feeling? Oh, tell me if you are ill? You don't look 
well! You're off color some, too! What's the matter, you're growing 
thin. _ Are you sure you're not sick ? How did you sleep last night ? 
Jimmy: Well, let's hope for the best. Hei'e's hoping for the best 
for you and yours. Don't give up the Ship! 

Willis: Perhaps you are right, but then again you might be 
•wrong. Then again hoping for the best does not always bring the best. 
Taxes on the side, war-stamps in the rear. Liberty Bonds in the front, 
and subscriptions all around. A Socialist at every comer. Labor 
unions raising Hell because the beer is weak! Wilson in Gay Paree! 
Russia full of grafters and a revolution going on every minute of the 
day in that unfortunate country! Prohibition threatening New York! 

— 6 — 



And the clergy disturbing our well regulated social system! Could 
things be worse? 

Jimmy: (Interrogatively.) The clergy is not disturbing your so- 
cial system, I hope ? 

Willis: Oh, but aren't they? No booze in my house for over a 
month. Nothing to drink. Some of my best wines donated to the 
Red Cross! I know right now that my wine is being swizzled by the 
Chairman of some fake entertainment! The exti-avagance of our 
women is another terrible question! But with all of the troubles of 
the world, the women do the least worrying. 

Jimmy: (Trying to force Willis into a chair.) Forget the wine! 
Maybe it'll do the Y. M. C. A. some good! Wine, Women and Song, 
all three should be forgotten until peace is signed! 

Willis: (Arises from chair and advances towards Jimmy.) That's 
what I've been a preaching to my women for years. But they won't 
listen to me! 

Jimmy: (From the end of table, motions to Willis to remain 
seated.) Well, you've got a nerve! You should preach that to Arthur! 
It's the young men who should forget Wine, Women and Song. Not 
the poor women! Leave the women alone and they'll go over the top, 
and into the first line trenches before you know it. 

Willis: (As if about to arise from chair.) I am not sure but 
what you are right in your conclusions! It is useless to fret about 
the devils. Oh, oh, excuse me — I mean the ladies. The women of 
years ago counted for something! 

Jimm: And they'll count for something in New York by the time 
the next election rolls around, don't you fool yourself. 

Wil is: (Out of chair, pointing finger at Jimmy.) Ah, you make 
me tired. What are the women doing to-day? Congregating about 
office buildings and hotels, selling war stamps and begging you and 
me to sign Food Pledges, and they all the while gobbling down choco- 
lates and sugar bon bons at $2.00 a pound. 
Jimmy: Don't knock the poor darlings! 

Willis: Knock the poor darlings did you say? Oh, no, but an 
old pelican about fifty, darn near knocked my eye out last night in the 
subway with a feather in her over seas hat. 

Jimmy: Don't knock the poor darlings I say! They are most use- 
ful! Why, President Wilson even uses them for pickets in the White 
House fence! Now, no chaffing, you can't say a word against Mrs. 
Willis, Mae, or your charge, Miss Lloyd! 

Willis: (Moving hands about v/ildly.) True enough, but there 
are no Joan of Arcs in my house at that! Say, my boy, business is 
business, get real serious and down to business. Now direct to the 
point, and the point is this, I don't think things are running any too 
smooth between Miss Lloyd and my son, Arthur. 

Jimmy: Oh, ho! Oh, ho! Ah, ha! Ah, ha! I see! Well, you 
know, "The course of true love never did run smooth." 

Willis: (Left hand in pocket, shaking right at Jimmy.) Oh, I 
want none of that Midsummer Night's Dream ttuff. I'm a man of 
business. Business first, last, and all the time. I believe like Carlyle, 
"This is an age of hurry, hurry." 

Jimmy: And now, come to think of it, wasn't it the same old 
Carlyle who said, "The course of scoundrelism, any more than that of 
true love, never did run smooth." 

Willis: Now. enough of this poetry and preacher talk! What the 
young lady needs is a bit of preaching from you! A word fi-om you 
would show her the wisdom of expediting the affair, and soon we would 
have a wedding. 

Jimmy: Why divest yourself of parental prerogatives and select 



me as a matrimonial promoter ? Make yourself master of the situa- 
tion and express your views forcibly and firmly! 

Willis: (Pacing up and down, laboring under great excitement.) 
Me speak up in my house! Mr. Forbes, look at me. I am the most 
miserable man in New York. Master of my house ? Master did you 
say ? You know as much of my house as Von Hindenberg knows of 
kindness. If I dared speak up, as you advise, the Agent of the New 
York Life would be showing Mrs. Willis where to sign. Papa'd be a 
dead cock in tlie pit. 

Jimmy: Well, all I can say is watch your step around home, 
and look out for the loose brick! 

Willis: I'm v.'atching my step. I'm dodging bricks all day long. 
We poor married men! 

Jimmy: This talk about wives and marriage is awfully depi'ess- 
ing. Let's change the subject! 

Willis: (Talking loudly; gazing at Jimmy in a most credulous 
way.) When you are married you can't change the subject as easily 
as you think! God knows, I'd change mine if the laws would allow. 
The game of marriage has no rules such as ''money refunded if goods 
do not please." Marriage is a commercial proposition. 

Jimmy: You speak of husbands as if they were "Hole-proof Sox." 
Husbands are not guaranteed! 

Willis: The present state of society is such that marriage is the 
medium whereby fortunes are retrieved! We modems never discuss 
marriage without our minds reverting to the profit and loss columns 
of the contracting parties. Civilization has ordained that no man 
should contract marriage until he is assured of gain! 

Jimmy: You are becoming as mercenary as society! As soon as 
man announces his intentions to marry Miss "So and So," society 
raises its head from its pillow of gossip, and inquires as to what Mr. 
Man is going to get with the lady. 

Willis: Hell, most of the time! (EXIT.) 

Jimmy: (Shaking his head, pacing to and fro.) Poor old Willis. 
He is a nut pure and simple. His family gives him an awful raw deal. 
By George, how miserable I am! Gee, I've got the gloomy gloomitis. 
Oh, I'm in a hell of a fix. Look at me, hopelessly in love, friends 
busted, self-busted, want to be a good fellow, but Not Sufficient Funds" 
to write a check for a Pilsner. 

Enter— Butler. 

Butler: (Unsteady gait; right hand guarding mouth.) Some 
ladies on the outside. Sir! Mrs. Willis and Miss Lloyd; shall I show 
them in. Sir? (Aside.) The bold devils are showing themselves in. 

Miss Lloyd: (Trips in, swinging loud-colored, oddly-designed sun- 
shade.) Oh, you are always in a jolly humor! 

Mrs. Willis: (Bustling, taking off gloves.) Where do you think 
we have been, Jimmy. We have been motoring about the docks look- 
ing at the soldiers, 

Jimmy: Ladies, I must ask your kind indulgence. I'm in an 
awfully blue funk. Pardon me, if I cannot enter into the gaiety of 
the occasion. 

Mrs. Willis: I'll bet a Liberty Bond to a dog biscuit that that sour- 
face grouch of a man of mine has been prowling about these premises! 
The miserable old wretch! May the Lord forgive me this day, but if 
I just had him for one minute. If Miss Lloyd can overlook your 
Hamlet, now I stop to think business, I am sure I can! 

Miss Lloyd: (Laughingly.) Your remarks would convey the im- 
pression that I am reluctant to overlook the absence of his genial and 
cheerful temper. 

Mrs. Willis: (Leaning on long-handled parasol, with one arm 

— 8 — 



akimbo.) Don't misconstrue my remarks, and don't ask me to ex- 

^^^' M\ss"Lloyd: (Poutingly.) It would be very embarrassing if 
Jimmy's long friendship and mine should be misunderstood 

^Lmy : Give not the slightest heed to others, Miss Lloyd! I trust 
you'll never find me presuming to offer more than friendship mdi- 

^^^^Miss Lloyd: Such a tribute from you makes me happier than the 
most passionate profession of all others Wa'.n't it 

Jimmy: Oh, you ovei-whelm me! You are too kind! Wasnt ii 
old Voltaire who said, "Friendship is the marriage of the souL 

Miss Lloyd: I know my Dryden better, and according to Porph>- 
rius. "Friendship is one soul in two bodies." I hope that friendship 
will' not make you self -forgetful. . 

Jimmy: My dear Miss Lloyd, you leave me without ans%\er. ^elt- 
forgetfulness is an indictment which I cannot evade, but you— never. 

Mrs. Willis: Friendship is a sturdy stick to travel with; love a 
slender cane to promenade with! r -.tto 

Miss Lloyd: I believe the object of our callmg was to see if we 
could induce Mr. Forbes to go a promenading! 

Mrs Willis: You clever little villain— so you 11 take the cane. 
You don't know this Jimmy boy, like me. The ladies are forever sing- 
ing his praises, and many female tongues wag about the rascal night 
and day Jimi^y catalogs 'em now. There is Bessie Shields, Gertrude 
Six, Josie AriSgton, and as for that Flo Meeker, she is his professed 

^^^^^Mi^r* Lloyd: (Looking intently into Jimmy's face.) A wor- 
"^hiner' So vou have been deified! . 

^Mrs Willis: Now, why don't you tell him that it was the same 
Dryden that said, "God never made his work for man or woman to 

""^^Miss Lloyd: (Direcly to Mrs. Willis.) I am only interested in 
his women friends, and — , -4.^^ 

Mrs. Willis: Which only goes to show that you are only inter- 
ested in him! Sly child! ti,^,. ea,.? 

Miss Lloyd: Is this Flo Meeker as pretty as they say? ^ , ^^„, , 
Jimmy: (Smilingly.) New York never praises a woman s beauty 

^""^Ul ^^rm^^Z^. In a wailing, lamenting manner^ 
But woman is always determined that she never will lose her beauty 
For as her face undergoes a change, her skill m ^hf/^.^ «^, ^^^^.""^T' 
and pomades increase. Six times a week, and on Sunday too the 
Beauty Doctor has to counterfeit a new face for some fading beauty 
It might be ridiculous to you men, but to us poor women it is a mighty 
serious thing when you're passing from the fa ty double chm into old 
girlhood. It is almost tragic to see an old girl stnvmg to hide her 

^^^* Jimmy (Laughingly.) You're too hard on your sex. Eveiy age 
has a shriL where^m ale worshipers may gather for homage while you 
?rip merrny through the spring of life, then there are others reveling 

" '^Militloy^VHoVSiliating to be wintry in. age, and all the 
while trying to ape the youthfulness and zest of spring! I have seen 
lome of Sy best friends wear out the strongest of beauty doctors m 
a morning. Truly, it is facial forgery! 

Jimmy: (Curling lips derisively.) Yes, and poor man too often 
endorses the check and has to pay the bill in these facial forgery 

Mrs Willis: (Moving about with bustle, face brisking with re- 

— 9 — 



cases. 



sentment.) Facial forgeries, did you say — but how many of you 
devilish men are just mere physical forgeries? It takes George Ber- 
nard Shaw to show you men up in your true colors. 

Jimmy: George Beraard Shaw can go to blazes with his opinions! 
In acquiring a man the question is up to the purchaser. Women should 
look carefully before they buy. New York has husbands to fit every 
kind of wife, and all kinds of wives to fit every kind of husband. If 
you have plenty of money you can even bring home an affinity or two, 
on trial. 

Mrs. Wilas: Enough of this social palaver! We're I'eady to start, 
and you have to go along. 

Jimmy: I had an appointment with your husband, Mrs. Willis, 
but as you are so persistent I shall forego the pleasure of seeing my 
dear friend, and go along with you. (EXEUNT.) 

Enter — Arthur and Mae. 

Arthur: (Looking searchingly about the room.) And I expected 
to find him here. He might have been able to suggest something. 
Look at them ! There they go through the big gate. My darling- 
Mae, I would give my life to see you joining in their frolics and being 
as gay as they are! 

Mae: (Whiningly.) How can I be gay? Join their frolics, did 
you say? I am a bundle of nerves ready to fly to pieces every minute 
of the day. I live in a state of absolute fear. There is no telling 
when there will be an explosion and my real position made known. 
Think of the scandal when my deception is unmasked. 

Arthur: (Leaning over Mae.) There can be no scandal! Scandal 
breeds hatred, and hatred begets division! Nothing on earth shall 
divide us! We are each of us too young for scandal. If the worst 
comes to the worst you can explain that a cranky guardian made 
things so unpleasant that you thought it wise to put yourself under a 
protector who loves you. A protector who worships you! And, to 
avoid gossip, you came to my father's house. What more could you 
expect to say? 

Mae: Arthur, will you stop a minute and just reflect? We are in 
a pretty mess. I have been most indiscreet, and you have been un- 
vitterably foolish: Your being sent to London to bring home a sister; 
and instead of bringing home a sister, bringing mc. 

Arthur: A sister! Why, darling, you are worth a shipload of 
sistei's. I am certain you will be loved as much as any sister when 
they find things out in their true light. 

Mae: And something tells me the time for finding out things in 
their true light is rapidly approaching. 

Arthur: (Petulantly.) All bosh! We'll pop the news at a psy- 
chological moment. 

Mae: I am afraid the news will pop us at a psychological mo- 
ment. Pop us out of the house and into the street. And then the next 
thing will be our pictures popping in the newspapers. Oh, sure, some- 
thing will pop! Your pa-pa will pop! 

Arthur: Well, as I told you coming over on the boat — Ever since 
she was four years old Sis has been living with Aunty in London, and 
neithei- the Governor nor the Mater have the remotest conception of 
Vvbat Sis looks like. Neither have I for that matter. 

Mac: Wh}' this long separation from your father and mother? 

Arthur: Well, to tell you the truth, the governor is a bit squeam- 
ish about the big pond. Father is an all right old sport, but he can't 
stand the sea. Many a time both father and mother started for the 
other side, but tiie idea of sea-sickness ahvays killed the trip. Mr. and 
Mrs. George H. Willis are novv' celebrating their fourteenth annual 
disappointment in not being able to visit England. This time they 

— 10 — 



were afraid of floating mines. (Mae and Arthur sit down on sofa.) 

Mae: But suppose Sis, as you call her, should write? How do 
you know the Aunt will not write ? 

Arthur: Aunty lost her husband at Spionkop. He was with the 
Dublin Fusiliers. Since that time we have received very few letters 
from Auntie. No fear of the Aunt writing. Sis mails all the news 
(what news there is) direct to me. So you need not have any fear on 
that score. Why ai'e you crying, my dear? Brush away those tears. 
Oh, my darling, not for anything in this world would I give you pain. 
Let a smile chase those naughty tears away. Have I done anything, 
sweetheart ? 

Mae: (Handkerchief to weeping eyes.) No, boy. I was just 
thinking. You know Daddy was killed at Spionkop, and mother said 
he was the best old dad that ever lived. Dad was with his Irish gang. 
So you see, sweetheart, we do know one another pretty well after all. 
I can't remember Daddy. But, Arthur, this is what I am dreading! 
How are you going to get out of the Lloyd business? If you turn 
dovATi Miss Lloyd, your dad will grow suspicious, and convert our 
brief and happy lark into a scandal. 

Arthur: Oh, that's where my brainy work comes in. I'll put one 
over on the Governor. I have made up my mind not to refuse her. 
In fact, the Governor and I are to see her at an early date, when I will 
lay my heart and fortune at her feet. 

Mae: Your heart and fortune! You'll be doing the heart work, 
while your papa looks after the fortune. 

Arthur: (Arising quickly from sofa.) There is no need of grow- 
ing sarcastic, much less getting yourself all upset. Can my darling 
Mae think I am in earnest about my heart and fortune? I have an 
object in view. I do this because I am sure she will refuse me. My 
heart belongs to you, Mae, the sweetest little colleen out of Olde Ire- 
land! Anyhow, Miss Lloyd is badly smitten on Jimmy Forbes. 

Mae: (Up from sofa. Hands on hips; pugnacious air.) As if 
you weren't a hundred times superior to the likes of Jimmy Forbes. 
Now that the war's over he won't work. A great man he is. He's a 
Britisher, too, but when Dublin gets through talking to Kent he'll be 
looking for a job. Ireland is going to tell Mr. England some things. 

Arthur: To be compared with good old Jimmy does me honor, and 
that great man a grave injustice. By offering myself in marriage I 
shall be pleasing the Governor, and let the rest of the situation take 
care of itself. 

Mae: (Petulantly.) Well, hurry and get the whole thing over 
with, and let's be done forever with the thing. The sooner things are 
brought to a crisis the better satisfied I'll be. I just feel it, feel it in 
my bones, something's going to happen to — going to happen, and then 
what's going to become of poor me ? Suppose that spiteful thing 
should say yes to you. Oh, my, what is going to happen to poor me? 

Arthur: Don't grow cross, my dear Mae. Keep cool (shaking), 
and all will be well. Even if she consented, which I know she won't, 
you and I could dodge the gang and go to White Plains to get mar- 
ried. 

Enter— Willis. 

Willis: (Looking all around in an excited manner.) Where in 
the name of General Jackson have you been ? Never able to lay hands 
on you at the right moment. I want you to hear Jimmy Forbes, his 
talk is really uplifting. 

Arthur: (Going to window and pointing out.) You'll see and 
hear this uplifting young man if you look towai'ds Palisade Drive. You 
see the red car, and, of course, you see who is in the red car ? 

Willis: (Pacing up and dov.n, brandishing walking stick in a 
— 11 — 



wild way.) The infenial no-account, two-faced fourflusher. I just 
left him full of dole and gloom, and now look at his carrying on with 
that car. My gi-acious, he's lucky if he don't turn the whole kit and 
crew over the cliflF. One minute a serious-minded and sober-thinking 
fellow, and the next minute a giggling nut factory. Why that fellow 
hasn't enough brains to be a Quaitermaster in the army. Your moth- 
er, with her foolish notions, would ruin a saint, much less than Jimmy 
Forbes. Look what your mother has made of me. 

Arthur: (Two hands out beseechingly towards Willis.) Then, if 
you have made such a mess of jnavriage, why in the devil are you so 
insistent upon rny getting married? God, it might make me even 
look like you! 

Willis: (Aside.) (Turning around quickly.) I didn't get all of 
that. If you ask any more fool questions I'll crush that fool head of 
yours with this poker. Money is the reason, and, young man, money is 
the best reason for anything in New York City! And as part and 
parcel of modern civilization you must obey the rules of the game of 
the twentieth century matrimonial game. 

Arthur: I'll be ready. Dad! Oh, father, I will be obeying you, but 
suppose she views me as unsuitable ? Father, are you listening ? I 
say, suppose she views me as unsuitable. In your marriage you must 
have been guided by an old book of rules and played the game for 
something else than money. That's the way I wish to play the game. 
Not the way of to-day 

Willis: (Aside.) I guess I'll have to explain the whole thing to 
him. Now, son, listen! The major share of Miss Lloyd's fortune 
consists in a claim upon the United States Government for cotton con- 
fiscated in New Orleans during the Civil War. It seems that the Gov- 
ernment sold this cotton to or exchanged same with an English bank- 
ing syndicate for munitions of war. At all events, it was a trade 
pure and simple, and involves the sum of one million doUai's. This is 
not one of the ordinary cotton claims. Now, according to my influen- 
tial and wire-pulling friend. Captain Saunders, the Comittee on Claims 
will allow this first claim! Her father and I were great friends when 
we first came to this country, and hence the girl in my charge. Now, 
the late Mr. Lloyd left a very peculiar will in that it declared if Grace 
did not marry the man of my selection she would lose half of her 
estate. I don't want half, I want it all. You marry her, and, by 
crickey, we'll get all. 

Arthur: All the money in the world cannot purchase the neces- 
sity of the soul. Money never made a man happy. Money answers 
for everything save the sting of a guilty conscience. Now, father, 
don't get away from the facts. If you'll but listen to reason — Sit.-; 
down wearily). 

Willis: (Standing over son, menacingly.) Well, argue your case. 
Produce your reasons. I'll listen to you because my mind is made up, 
but a million reasons can't move me now. Go on, go on, spit out your 
reason, I'm waiting. 

Arthur: You realize that a mutual choice is essential to happi- 
ness. 

Willis: We're discussing marriage, not happiness, and mutual 
choice is just what exists between us two. A mutual choice — she to 
marry you, and get the money for the cotton from the Committee on 
Claims. As for you, you blithering hunk of bayrum and massage 
cream, you have no choice. You tea room rattler, your choice is my 
choice, and my choice is that you are going to get married to her, and 
BO one else. Pull off any of that love sacrifice stuff around here, and 
see how quick out you'll go. 

Arthur: (Beseechingly.) I'm your only son. 

— 12 — 



Willis: (In a rage.) Don't remind me oi it. And I'm your only 
''*|r = S?Sc.e\,rS?eSS''ad,ance.) None of your «y 
-%H.7f fn tty trftl^UM^^et^^Ser. that I mi.ht be 

*«^fi,Hi^'J*eS»y2*-J0„-,^!S°d^^ 

Tlien think of your poor .^'''t" ^ae ^that nje^ aisoo y ^^ ^^ ^ 

and remained abroad during Ae h-*^'"' ^'" f"/ recognition? Then, " 
existence. Has not your s.ste, some ground lor re ^^^^^ ^^^^ 

Sh-std='refthtw^ms'fa^:i.?° 'y^u a%e going to have a «nger 

in the pie and get your shaie fa-th-er, I wish you to un- 

aerst^a^ thkt ^Sie^r^^^ --ne which wiU de- 

I ^^oTngtTanrthat^g^rl^or, b/?he etev.kls, I'll know why. To-mor- 
row oAhe day after we'll pop the^question. 

ACT II. 

Scene-In the home of Willis. Drawing room opening into con- 
^^''''IpS-Adjoining the home^of^Jimmy Forbes. 

Miss Lloyd and Maid, Norah. 
Miss Lloyd: (Dead stop. Fixing bouc,uetm corsage^) Why. .m^- 

possible! Can it be possible; Mae not his sistei 

ri2^?-n-rstfal^=\l;l\ua^^^^ 

iV'he SforXthrlasVTtlefame Jk newspaper, and he 
could tell you — i,„:„ \ Vn rnv dear child, I do not 

-' ar I^^^ table, ^th ^- -1_^ J-i . J^S 

tT :^^^Sr^^?yP^ 

He swims about for a y^^'^^^'j^tiTs^^/Z^^^f Si wfth th^ prettiest 

when the next thmg he ^^^s hisself m a hote^^ v^^ ^^,^^ 

colleen bending over him, saying, Now, deai, J^^^/- , brought 

do you goocL" She must have made good beef tea b^^^^^^^ 
her back with him, this same beef-tea iady^mr. a ^^^^^^ ^^.^ 

around Queenstown and "^^^jes the mail bo^^j/^^^^i ^^d over the 
here young woman to come to America, ne is rd & ,, , Holly- 
litUe^collefn. Why, maam, he -^i^.fJ^^/JJ^^teh^nTay^ w^^^^ 
head' The girl comes of a fine family, so the Kixcnen say , 
end of money and a very good name. 

io ""^ 



Miss Lloyd: And the audacity to bring her into this house as the 
daughter of my guardian! 

Maid: Sure, and there's no a-doubting she will be his daughter. 
If the old devil starts a racket it's out a back window and a night 
xide to the preacher's. 

Miss Lloyd: The deceitful little hypocrite! To think, I opened 
my heart to her and told her everything. She is a sly trickster. Not 
a word has she told me. The way the old man Willis is acting, so 
very strange, one is inclined to believe — 

Maid: She's a wise one, maam. In faith, I dont' blame her keep- 
ing a close mouth on her affairs considering the way you babble your 
affairs. There was my uncle John who never opened his mouth ex- 
cept to take a mug of ale, or — 

Miss Lloyd: The sly little cat! The deceitful thing! Both she 
and he are a cunning pair. What their game is I don't pretend to 
know. To make his conduct more deceitful and more despicable, 
Arthur pretends to love me, and intends asking me to be his wife. 
In fact, I am now waiting the arrival of Arthur and his father to 
launch their matrimonial campaign. If I reject Arthur I lose half of 
my fortune. 

Maid: And you have no way out, since you are head and heels 
in love with Mr. Forbes. That Forbes fellow sure is a hot proposi- 
tion! 

Miss Lloyd: (Angrily. ) What's that? You Irish are so pro- 
voking! In love with Jimmy Forbes! Are you trying to tantalize 
me? 

Maid: Your pardon, ma'am. No indeed, ma'am. Yes, ma'am, 
true enough, ma'am. I mean you have friendship for him, ma'am! 
I mean you love him as a friend. Yes! Yes! 

Miss Lloyd: Shut up your incessant chattering. I'll beat Mr. 
Arthur and his old Dad at their own game. I shall accept Mr. 
Arthur's offer in marriage, and appear bubbling over with happiness. 
My acceptance will be forcing things to a show-down. 

Maid: That's the game, ma'am. (Aside.) Don't I wish that 
Officer Casey would ask me hand in marriage. Oh, wouldn't I a-grab 
him. By accepting Mr. Arthur and he a-refusing, you'll keep the 
whole of the fortune for yourself and — 

Miss Lloyd: And who ? 

Maid: For yourself and your children, ma'am. Oh, but you're 
the cute one! 

Miss Lloyd: I am resorting to this deception only to presei've my 
rights. 

Maid: Then you'd better get ready to lose your rights, for it's 
the deceiver that's always deceived. Here come the brave laddy- 
bucks now! (EXIT.) 

Enter — Willis and Arthur. 

Arthur: Oh, father, dear father, you'll overlook it if I am some- 
what hesitant in popping the question all at once. 

Willis: Don't "dear father me." Calm yourself! Well, don't 
stand there like a silly school girl. (Kicks the son on heel.) Brace 
up, begin, say something! (Pokes Arthur in the ribs.) Eh! What? 
Ah, ah, ha, ha, Miss Lloyd — I know, yes, indeed. Miss Lloyd I be- 
lieve, yes, indeed, in fact I know, I bet you can guess. Well, yes. 
How are you feeling? We are here, oh, no, not me, but my son, to 
broach a matter which concerns your future happiness. 

Miss Lloyd : My dear guardian, I should prove an ungrateful child 
not to be pleased with anything you might suggest. 

— 14 — 



Willis: (Aside to son.) Idiot, there's your chance, and a mighty 
good one at that. 

Arthur: My dear, it is only too true. Yes, it is only too true. 
My father, yes, father has some ideas about a little affair of his own 
— no mine — of his own, Grace — whi — which whi — ch he wants to ex- 
plain. 

Willis: (Pinches Arthur on arm.) My dear child, the proposal 
comes from my son. It is a request of his, and I say his own affair. 
And he, of course, will explain the whole thing to your satisfaction. 

Arthur: As my father is so thoroughly conversant with all of 
the details he desires that I accord him the privilege of enlightening 
you as to just what the sum and substance of. the transaction will 
evenually prove to be. 

Willis: (Aside.) Of all the idiots, and to think he is an aspirant 
of the hand of a sensible woman. Enough of this. Now, do\vn to 
business. Grace, you see before you one of whose love for you is 
unquestioned; one whose eveiy thought is concerned with your happi- 
ness. 

Miss Lloyd: As to your love, my dear guardian, I have never 
entertained the slightest doust; and, I pray, you can have none of my 
appreciation. 

Willis: Sweet little angel! Sweet unknowing child! Blessed 
little innocence! No, not me. Another loves you; here he is! 
(Wheels son around to attention and gives him vigorous pinch on the 
arm.) My son. My hopeful. His very looks betoken the passionate 
lover. (Aside.) Brace up, you infernal fool. Oh, if you were a wit- 
ness to his passion! His every act betrays the love he bears you. His 
love exists, though hidden from you. 

Miss Lloyd: His love must be a-hiding, or he would have spoken 
the words of rapture which you have just uttered. "Cupid is a 
knavish lad. Thus to make poor females mad." 

Willis: Speak, did you say. He is so absolutely in love that 
the faculty of speech has been lost to him. I am the medium thi-ough 
which his love must be expressed. 

Miss Lloyd: Love's sweetest meanings are unspoken; the full 
heart knows no rhetoric of word. His silence bespeaks the sincerity 
and manliness of his suit. His silence is inspiring. His modesty 
awakens in me a most rapt admiration. 

Wiiilis: Silence and modesty are but two of his most prominent 
virtues. 

Miss Lloyd: Silent men, like still waters, are deep and dangerous. 

Willis: But in the boy's case, silence is the chaste blossom of 
love. 

Miss Lloyd: And my heart bids me speak. Please do not think 
me bold. His virtues are in his favor. I'm afraid that Arthur will 
regard my heart's confession as boldness. 

Arthur: (Aside.) My silence seems to have killed the game. If 
modesty and silence find favor in her eyes I'll give her a dose of hot 
air which she'll never forget. (Pompously.) Grace, do not get it 
into your head because I am silent that I have not a true appreciation 
of the honor and happiness which will accrue to you as a result of 
your being my wife. You are being honored, highly honored, when I 
bestow upon you the name of Mrs. Arthur Thornton Willis. If my 
father admires you, I worship you, and it shall be my intention to 
make vou the happiest woman in the whole world. 

Miss Lloyd : If I can only bring myself to believe that your words 
bespeak sincerity! 

Willis: (Impatiently.) Well, that's the end of it. 

— 15 — 



Arthur: Ask Wall Street if it loves money? Ask the hungry if 
they want bread ? Ask the Kaiser what he thinks of Wilson ? 

Willis: (Raging beside himself.) Ask an idiot if he relishes 
nonsense. What's got into the fool ? Asking and answering himself 
a lot of silly rot. If you are in an asking mood, ask this sweet girl 
to become your wife. 

Miss Lloyd: His outburst! His eloquence! The fire of divine 
passion which he breathes with such fervor and sincerity, leaves me 
no alternative. I am forced to say yes. It is possible that my Arthur 
will underrate a prize so easily obtained. 

Arthur: (Aside.) Oh, hell, she's after a man, I see that sticking 
out. What an awful mess! Under no circumstances will I despise 
the fruit of conquest' in the garden of love. Yet, Grace, you talked of 
force. Where mutual happiness is concerned there must be no com- 
pulsion — there must be no constraint — there must be no urging — ■ 
there must be no force, I say. I am a man of most generous im- 
pulses, and I leave with you the privilege of refusal. 

Willis: Son, dear Grace is no longer privileged. The affair is 
settled. She is yours. She says nothing. Silence gives consent! 

Arthur: Not so fast, father, she spoke of force. Think of the in- 
justice of forcing her to do something against her own will. She 
spoke of force. 

Willis: Shut up, you babbling brook of idiocy. No woman ever 
says yes out and out to a proposal of marriage. Women do things 
entirely different. Go into the garden my children. (Aside to 
Arthur.) Get out of here. Another word and I'll knock your silly 
head off. I'll use the force. 

Arthur: Father, dear father, I must ask that — 

Wiliis: (Runs to hearth and grabs poker.) Out of here, you in- 
fernal boob, out of my sight or I'll brain you with this poker. Stupid 
blockhead. But I can't blame him, he gets it entirely from his 
mother. (EXEUNT.) 

Enter— Mrs. Willis. 

Mrs. Willis: (Babbling.) George Hammond Willis, beacon light 
of my existence, I have something here that will put a smile on your 
face. 

Willis: Has anything happened to your mother? 

Mrs. Willis: A letter, and the handwriting was so familiar I took 
the libei'ty of opening it. 

Willis: Since when does your prying into pei'sonal mail put a 
smile on my face? I'll leave it to any New York newspaper if it is 
proper to tamper with private mail ? 

Mrs. Willis: This is New York, a place where private mail is not 
respected by newspapers. Ha, hah, hah, ha, forget the ethics of the 
mail bag, and read the letter. It's from your sister-in-law, and con- 
tains the jolliest and bestest news. Read it. 

Wiliis: (Sitting down.) Perfumed stationery, with a mourning 
rim. Ah, that woman never got over the loss of my brother Tom. 
Poor Tom died a-tryinp; to get the Dublin Fuseliers' machine gun ovei- 
the top at Spionkop. Poor old Tom, how well liked he was! It was 
no use, his chum, Captain Tuckerman, carried him out of the line of 
fire, and just as they were to make it a shell got them both. My 
sister-in-law is a good woman, but she don't know a damn thing about 
folding a letter. (Wiping glasses in leisurely manner.) 

Mrs, Willis: You tax the patience of a saint, read the letter! 

Willis (Reading): 

Dear George — A French officer, of large fortune, attached 
to the Flying Squadron, has favored your daughter Mae with 
— 16 — 



an offer of marriage. He is young, handsome, and comes of 
a distinguished family, and enjoys an income of £8,000. She 
reciprocates his love in a very warm manner. Without let- 
ting me know much about the affair, she has consented to 
become his wife. As really good men are more or less scarce, 
I hope you will be willing to bless this match with your ap- 
proval. 

Your loving sister, 

EDITH BUCKNER WILLIS. 

My daughter, Mae, secretly engaged to a young, handsome and rich 
French flier! Mrs. Willis, this is what I call news. And not a word 
mentioned since she came home. She is a trickster. But you know, 
Ma- 
Mrs. Willis: None of your "Ma business" around this house, 
young man. Who ever heard the word "Ma" on Riverside Drive? 

Willis: I've been sort of suspecting something. For the last few 
days the child appeared as if she had something on her mind — struck 
me as concealing something. 

Mrs. Willis: (Standing by chair where Willis is seated.) They 
might have concealed their love-making and their spooning, but 
George Hammond Willis, they'll not conceal the wedding. Ring up 
the newspapers at once, George. A wedding! There's not a minute 
to be lost. I must go downtown this afternoon. I positively must go 
shopnino-. I'll want money to-day, if I never wanted it before. 

Willis: (Wailingly.) And please shut up. Any excuse to get 
money out of me! You'll bankrupt me yet! The wedding is the ab- 
surd part of it. Let's consider the more serious aspects of the alli- 
ance ? 

Mrs. Willis: There can be no serious aspects to such an alliance 
— it is England, France and America, all mixed up in a loving scheme. 
It is what comes after a wedding — that is the serious matter. If you 
could only begin to realize what a wonderful woman you have for a 
wife, George Hammond Willis, I believe you would undergo a change 
of heart towards me, and try to be a little bit more loving. 

Willis: All right, all right, all right, go on, get out! How much 
do you want ? 

Mrs. Willis: It is not all right, either. You owe a great deal to 
my ability in making friends with the right sort of people. Was it 
not I who first met the celebrated Captain Saunders, and introduced 
him into our little circle ? Don't you rate Captain Saunders as one 
of the strong men of the United States ? You must not forget that it 
was Captain Saunders who made the Congressional Committee on 
Claims put more ginger in the Lloyd cotton controversy. Captain 
Saunders is what might be termed a member of the invisible govei'n- 
ment. 

Willis: He's mighty visible, however, whenever there is any free 
eating or free drinking to be done. I'll admit he is a man of some 
importance ,but it strikes me as devilish queer while he's always 
promising to do something for the other fellw, why don't he do some- 
thing for himself ? 

Mrs. Willis: All men in public life are not patterned after ex- 
Presidents. It is possible that Captain Saunders does not seek office 
or fame. 

Enter — McNeal, servant to Saunders. 

McNeal (Servant) : A note from Captain Saunders. He'll not be 
long delayed. He is drawing up a new peace proposal for Wilson. 
As I was leaving he was showing Burleson out the back gate, I dare 
say he told the Postmaster a few things about cables. 



Mrs. Willis: George Hammond Willis, did you heai that? Now, 
jou will admit he is one of the world's leaders. 

Willis: If he says so, it muts be true. But what in the Hell is 
he doing all this monkey business for? 

Mrs. Willis: You, above all men, to question his motives. A 
pure, high-minded, patriotic man. I think I hear him coming through 
the hall, and be sure that you accord him a reception commensurate 
with his dignity and standing. 

Willis: Good night, Mike! I am going out the side entrance. 
I'll take devilish good care not to run into him. (EXIT.) 

Enter — Captain Saunders. 

Saunders: (To MacNeal loudly,) And if Boies Penrose calls, tell 
him I'm not at home, and can't be found. By the great William Ran- 
dolph Hearst, they'll not work me. My esteemed Mrs. Willis, a min- 
ute of my precious time to you. And if the proof of the new income 
tax law be ready see that it is mailed to Henry Ford immediately. 
Your pardon, madam, your pardon, madam, but business is business. 

3Irs. Willis: (Lifting right hand airily.) This is inded an 
honor — 

Saunders:.. (To MacNeal.) Right you are, MacNeal. If 
Leonard Wood calls, tell him to go to Kansas. Mrs. Willis, you xnusz 
excuse me, really, I don't like mixing affairs of state with pleasure. 

Mrs. Willis: (Hand still uplifted in a most embarassed fashion.) 
This is indeed an honor — 

Saunders: (To MacNeal, loudly.) If Lord Northcliffe pops in, give 
him some good newspaper to read, and tell him I won't stand for his 
foolish scribbling all over the walls. 

Mrs. Willis: This is indeed an honor, and one which will go 
down into my life. My keeping you here is depriving the nation of 
its right arm. 

Saunders: I must forget the nation for a minute, as McAdoo said 
when he quit work. I know you realize that I am at least entitled to 
a breathing spell. 

Mrs. Willis: The knowing ones of the country realize your worth 
to the country. How do you manage it all ? 

Saunders: You rate me too highly. I'm nothing but a poor 
human in the cogwheel of the country's progress. 

Mrs. WiKis: Your modesty is as great as your labors. 

Saunders: Your candor is disconcerting. I'm nothing else but a 
plain gentleman in the arena of politics and international affairs. 

Mrs. Willis: How modest you are. Captain Saunders? 

Saunders: (Sitting straight-laced in chair.) You touched a 
tender chord then, madam ! Modesty is my paramount virtue. It 
was Colonel House who used to say: "No one is better equipped for 
affairs of state; a man of acute knowledge and exhaustless informa- 
tion; a capable speaker — forceful and analytical; a gracious mixer — 
and yet withal he has his faults, he is too damned modest and retir- 
ing." 

Mrs. Willis: But I dare say when the interest of friends is in- 
volved yoiL become as bold as a lion. 

Saunders: Now, you have it. Where friends are concerned I'm 
a fighter. Take the case of Miss Grace Lloyd. Well, I just put the 
whole matter up to a committee chairman, and in plain language told 
him what I wanted. And I did not forget to tell him I wanted things 
fixed up in a huny. 

Mrs. Willis: How different and much more effective are your 
methods as compared to Mr. Forbes,, old Jimmy Forbes. You know 
who I mean! 

— 18 — 



Saunders: (Slaps knees exultingly.) Poor old Jimmy Forbes! 
What a dub ? As if the high and mighty would pay passing note to 
him. He is an all around failure. Suppose you've heard the latest 
about him, eh? 

Mrs. Willis: Poor Jimmy Forbes, I hope he has not been hurt or 
anything. You know a chorus girl threatened his life a year ago ? 

Saunders: No physical hurts, but financially well bent. His 
creditors have seized his belongings, and he is out on bond awaiting 
arraignment on the charge of issuing checks without having any 
funds in the bank. If he dares to leave his house his bondsman will 
surrender him to the Disti'ict Attorney. Jimmy Forbes is a prisoner 
in his own house! 

Mrs, Willis: A prisoner enjoying all the comforts of home? Oh, 
this is dreadful, and I knowing nothing about it, and me living prac- 
tically next door to the man! I never saw it in the papers. 

Saunders: A police inspector along the White Way kept it away 
from the press. Friends with all the police, from Chief down to 
patrolman. 

Mrs. Willis: In New York the police are about the best people 
to be trieridly with, don't you think? 

Saunders: Yes, especially if you mix in society. His incarcera- 
tion depresses me also. He is a jolly laughing sort of a chap! 

Mrs. Willis: He was jolly, and then he wasn't jolly. He wasn't 
what you could call an understandable man. 

Saunders: No man is understandable, madam. Jimmy Forbes 
is just an everyday idler, without a particle of brains. If he had a 
grain of sense I would have had him fixed down at Washington doing 
nothing, but at least on the pay roll. 

Mrs. Willis: The opinion of Miss Lloyd is entirely at variance 
with yours. Honored Sir! She is blind to all his imperfections. Of 
course, she is madly in love with him. 

Saunders: Love that numskull. You must knock silly notions 
out of her young head. If she could only see him now between two 
sheriffs I warrant her love would sufl'er a cooling down. Miss Lloyd 
is a fine girl, with a fine future, and should not be thrown away on 
the likes of such as Jimmy Forbes. Of the young lady I think a 
great deal, and rather than see her sacrificed to this all-night taxi-cab 
epileptic I'd marry her myself. Jimmy Forbes is the one man unable 
to go about in broad daylight. The sun hurts his eyes. But he's 
some boy as soon as the mazda current is turned on. Who wants to 
marry a man known as a Night Owl and a Champagne Swizzler? 
I'll marry this girl and save her. I believe she is in the conservatory, 
so I would say let's join the future to be Mrs. Saunders. (EXEUNT.) 
Enter — Mae and Arthur. 

Arthur: (Moving hand about mildly in an explanatory mood.) 
Don't be cross, darling! I can't stand a scolding from you! My head 
is in a whirl! I hadn't the remotest idea she would accept me. The 
very boldness of the girl took me off my feet. She literally busted 
through my camouflage. 

Mae: Possibly your camouflage was too thin. When a woman 
wants a man she signals for the barrage fire and goes for him over 
the top, on the side, or, for that matter, through liquid fire, just so 
long as she gets him. Why shouldn't she be bold ? Anyone would 
be bold for you, Arthur, you dear old Arty! I believe I can say my 
present predicament is due to two things, my boldness and you, old 
Arty, yes, you, old boy. 

Arthur: Say, this is an awful mess I've put you in, my darling. 

3Iae: It's time we stopped lamenting and weeping. (Taking 

— 19 — 



seats on the sofa.) Now is the time for your brain to do the double 
quick, and see if something cannot be done to clear the atmosphere. 
As for me, I am thoroughly ashamed of myself for being so foolish, 
and if it wasn't for you, Arty, I'd never have done so rash a thing. 

Arthur: I appreciate your feelings, my dear, and shall do my 
utmost to avert anything which might reflect on one so pure and so 
good. The world may turn its back on us, but if we have each other 
we shall be eternally happy. We shall have our joys in solitude. 

Mae: But our scandal will be in public. 

Arthur: Scandal! Stop discussing the subject. 

Mae: What is scandal for, if not discussion. Scandals about 
other people are most interesting, but when one's self is concerned 
the charm of scandal is destroyed. 

Mae: Then let us expedite our happiness or scandal, by so-me plan 
or other. Your father is extremely kind to me as a favorite child, but 
w^hat will happen to me when he discovers that I am an intruder in 
his household ? I dread to think of what is in store for me. 

Arthur: Things will turn out all right, little girl! Don't lose your 
nerve. Cheer up and we'll storm the trenches of the Governor. His 
own mari-iage was a runaway affair. I wouldn't be surprised if the 
"old man" knew the true lay of the land. His silence is the only part 
of the game to worry us. 

Mae: Perhaps so. Fancy the idea! But that sounds too good to 
be true. 

Arthur: It matters not what happens, your power over him is 
such that the Governor would find himself squelched in applie pie 
order. 

Mae: Arthur, you are a great one in outlining campaigns, but 
you ai'e very cautious about taking a chance yourself. You are a reg- 
ular Crown Prin-ce. You never get on the firing line! 

Arthur: Be careful, I think he's coming this way. Help me! 

Mae: For you, old Toodles, I'll do anything. 

Arthur: Sh! £h! Sh-h-h! Play the game hard and victory will be 
ours. Darling, we must win. I'll be hiding behind this screen ready 
to send in reserves, if need be, or congratulate you with a kiss. Ar- 
thur goes behind screen.) 

Enter— Willis. 

Willis: By Harry, I'll forgive her. But with the forgiveness I'll 
pretend shock and resentment at such treatment. 

Mae: (Aside.) How nervous I am! What an ordeal! Will I ever 
get through with it? Beg your pardon — excuse me. Are you expect- 
ing anyone? I'd better be going. 

Willis: (Advancing tov/ards Mae, points finger at nose.) My lit- 
tle snooky duck cannot run away from me. I've cornered you at last, 
you gay little deceiver! 

Mae: You're too kind. I hardly know what I've done to receive 
such magnanimous treatment after deceiving you so. 

Willis: (Takes Mae by the hand.) Well, this time I will forgive 
you. Who could help forgiving such a sweet girl ? 

Mae: But I'm afraid you don't realize the enormity of my decep- 
tion. When I tell you all, you'll not be so eager to forgive. 

Willis: If you feel that way about it, you need not say another 
word. I know the whole story from beginning to end. 

Mae: Weira, wiri-a, v.^urra! Th' annam Dhia! It's over. 

Willis: (Laughingly tickles Mae under the chin.) Wanted to 
steal a march on the old man ? Wanted to get married without say- 
ing a word to anyone, did you? No reed of telling the old man, ex- 
cept when the bills come rolling around. And the old man scratching 
his head as to I'ust v/hat sort of a send-off to give you! 

— 20 — 



Mae: Tl;e fear of incurring your v.'rath forced us to practice this 
secrecy. 

Willis: Go on, don't mind me any more. It's all over, forgiven 
and forgotten. 

Mae: Your forgiveness causes me overpowering joy. I am so hap- 
p, so happy! 

Willis: I am happy, too. Eveiyone in the affair is forgiven. I 
Avas once young and foolish myself, so we oid folks don't look for per- 
fection among our boys and girls. 

Mae: You are noble! You are big hearted and a kind old man. 
But can you forget the many lies, the dissimulation — 

Willis: You rascal, indeed you did camouflage, but where is the 
girl who wouldn't resort to trickery for a husband? Mrs. Willis and 
1 would never have been married if both of us hadn't resorted to trick- 
ery. (Aside.) And I was the guy they played to the trick on, too. 

Mae: Never again shall I deceive you, and never again shall your 
nobleness of heart be put to a test. As for the sharer of my joys and 
sorrows, for my partner in this escapade, I m.ust explain for him that — 
(Beckons toward the screen.) 

Enter — Arthur, from behind portieres or screen. 

Arthur: Father, dear father, let him explain for himself. (Kneel- 
ing.) For this manliness, for this generosity, let me pour out words of 
giatitude. This one act wipes out all the mean and petty things of 
your former life. I rejoice in having such a noble father. I now can 
go about boasting that you are a capital fellow. 

Willis: (Dumfoundedly.) Now, who in the devil left that door 
open? See what sneaked in! Who in the devil sent for you with that 
moving-picture face ? Stop bowing and courtesying to me ! Stand up 
straight and act the man. Shut up! Shut up! 

Arthur: Dear father, father dear! Silence is impossible! I re- 
joice in having such a loving parent. Silence is impossible, father 
dear, and my heart must speak. Would you deny me the privilege of 
of being grateful or of sharing in the joys of which you are the be- 
nevolent creator? 

Willis: Great Scott! We can be happy enought without all your 
infernal gab. I don't know what ails the lad. Jumping around as if 
he had the itch. The boy has been acting sort of queer since he got 
up. Stop your dear fathering me! Enough! Shut up your fathering! 

Arthur: Must I restrain my joy? Must I subdue my happiness? 
Must I conceal the gladness of my heart ? You forget that I am a 
participant in Mae's happiness. Is the joy of marrying Mae so trivial 
a matter to you that you would pooh-pooh it? 

Willis: He's gone now. A complete nut. Oh, for the doctor — in- 
sane, sure. He is insane as sure as I'm a foot high. On his mother's 
side, I know. Marry Mae? Marry his own sister! His own sister! 

Arthur: My sister! 

Mae: (Aside.) Oui, oui! Sister. Some mistake. I knew some- 
thing would happen. Torpedoed! 

Arthur: Great Caesar! Who'd thought he'd use poison gas? Good 
night, nurse! 

Willis: The blithering idiot! The nincompoop! What in the devil 
are you driving at ? Speak up, you numskull ! What in the name of 
the great Jehovah do you mean ? You made-in-Germany imitation of 
a human being. 

Arthur: Father, dear father, why father, what a question! What 
do I mean? Why, father, dear father, on the pleasure of marrying her, 
father, dear father. The pleasure of giving her away. The pleasure 
of seeing her get married to a good young man. Giving her away, 
father, dear father! 

— 21 — 



Willis: Yes, I understand you at last. Now, shut up! I am 
tired of hearing your infernal tongue wag. You talk so damned much 
and so damned foolish that I am unable to make head or tail out of 
the whole mess. Yes, give her away, but by heck I am going to give 
you away first. Your mother and I are going to talk to Grace this 
clay as to the wedding preparations. There shall be no delay. Your 
discharge will soon be here, and by heck back to work for you. I'll 
see to it that you get a day or two off for the wedding. Now, what 
in the devil is the matter? Here I go and make you happy, and 
what do you do? Open your high pressure mains and try to drovm 
me. 

Arthur: Father, dear father! Why, I am as happy as I can be. 

Willis: (Aside.) Acting queerly. Dippy. His mother's whole 
family were a bunch of rum ones. (EXIT.) 

Mae: Where are we? What's really the matter? 

Arthur: He's on to something. 

Mae: That something is us, 

Arthur: Well, whatever it is I am determined to get out of this 
scrape. We'll make ready for an elopement and get married down- 
town. Before returning to the camp for discharge to-morrow I have 
a few hours, and I'll talk to Jimmy, you know old Jimmy, Jimmy 
Forbes, and get his advice, and what's more, get a fat check to tide us 
over the whole business until the Governor settles down. 

Mae: You mean until the Governor settles up, don't you, Arty? 



ACT III. 

Scene: Living or drawing room in the home of Jimmy Forbes. 
Civil Sheriffs, Jimmy Forbes, and Bozie. 

(Bell ringing loudly.) 

Bozie: (Standing in hall, but observing from doorway.) You'll 
remain out in the hall while I call the boss. (Aside.) Here's trouble, 
and a plenty of it at that. Two hard citizens. If I know anything of 
faces. Writs of Seizure, did h-e say? 

Sheriff No. 1: Say, old Johnny Walker, tell that funny boss of 
yours a representative of the Civil Sheriff of New York is on the job, 
and for the next few days will play janitor around this dump, watch- 
ing his second-hand furniture and all other junk. When he comes 
through with the cash we'll beat it, and not before. 

Bozie: None of your Tammany bull. Remember that you are in 
a gentleman's home. Here comes the master now! There they are, 
Master Jimmy. (EXIT.) 

Jimmy: By George, old friends, yes, yes, old pals, yes, my dear 
old friends, what's a name, your name is on the tip of my tongue! 

Sheriff No. 1: Well, you just keep it on the tip of your tongue! 

Jimmy: Won't you come in and have a chair? 

Sheriff No, 2: We're come for all the chairs. 

Jimmy: Oh, say, come on! What is your name? 

Sheriff No. 1: (Aside.) By heavens, I believe he wants to make 
a touch! 

Jimmy: Your name was? What did you say? 

Sheriff: I ain't said nothing. You're doing the saying. 

Jimmy: Oh, well, if you are ashamed of your name. 

Sheriff: You're a liar, my name's Therence Reilly. Now, that 
you know my name, what in the devil do you want anyhow? 

Jimmy: I want you to do me a favor. 

— 22 — 



Sheriff: (Aside — buttoning up his coat.) It's a touch, so help 
me. I'm a poor man, only on salary, with a big family, so be careful. 
We never does favors. We sheriffs always accept of 'em, though. 

Jimmy: You know this matter of seizure will last only a few 
days. About Saturday I'll have money and square every last one of 
these damned suits. What I want you two fellows to do is to stay 
with me until the whole matter is fixed up. 

Sheriff: (Shaking head up and down.) Oh^ we'll do that all right. 
We'll be here until our pay stops 

Sheriff: Oh, we'll do that all right. We'll be here until our pay 
stops, and as soon as the pay stops we stops stopping with you. 
(Laughs at his owti joke.) 

Jimmy: Oh, you don't understand what I mean. You see, I'm in 
a hell of a fix. What I want to do is to have you pretend that you 
are my guests. I'll pass you off as two of my old professors from 
Cambridge. 

Sheriff No. 2: I'll not play that I'm English, my name is Murphy. 

Sheriff No. 1: Isn't there to be something more substantial to 
this affair than just pretending? The next thing I know you'll be 
pretending I ain't got no business here. 

Jimmy: To be sure. You fellows are my guests. Here's some- 
thing substantial. How'd a ten spot do for each of my old pals? 

Sheriff: (Aside.) That's a man for you. 

Sheriff No. 2: (Aside.) Under seizure and passing out ten-dollar 
bills! I'll be on the lookout for a fire in this dump. 

Jimmy: Now, you fellows are my guests. You (to Sheriff) will 
be professor — 

Sheriff No. 2: That professor stuff is too strong! Something 
more refined. All the professors are pro-German. There is only one 
school teacher in the whole world who is not for peace. 

Jimmy: And who is he, pray? 

Sheriff No. 2: That fellow Wilson, over in Paris. 

Jimmy: Very good. That's a hot one. By the Lords of Good 
Wine, I have it ! You, big fellow, will represent my uncle who is now 
in South Africa, and Murphy can be your servant. Say, Murphy, old 
man, pull that bell rope will you? Bozie! Where is that Bozie? 
Ah, there he is. 

Enter — Bozie. 

Bozie: Sir, did you call? 

Jimmy: Bozie, these men are the Sheriffs. 

Bozie: I knows of it. Sir. I'm a watching 'em. 

Jimmy: Shut up until I explain what is to be done. 

Bozie: (Picks up phone as it rings.) Miss Lloyd on the phone, 
Sir. 

Jimmy: (Finger on lips.) Let Tommy bull her along for a few 
minutes. 

Bozie: Tommy's too drunk to talk to a lady, Sir. 

Jimmy: (Whisper.) Put down the receiver, and make no noise 
with the hook. (Takes Bozie aside and unfolds scheme. Bozie starts 
to protest, but to no avail.) Dress them up as English as hell. What- 
ever you do, let them be dressed a La London. And, Bozie, by the 
way, see if you can inject servility into the little runt. Sure, take 
'em in my room. (EXEUNT.) 

Jimmy: (Rubbing his hands through his hair; pacing up and 
dowTi fretfully.) What an awful predicament! 

(The following dialogue, loud enough, takes place in the dressmg 
room.) 

— 23 — 



Sheriff No. 2: Say, old jumping jack, I'll put on no orange colored 
necktie. Dy'e hear me, my name is Murphy. 

Bozie: Be sure and empty the pockets. 

Sheriff No. 1: Empty the pockets with a crook like you hanging 
around. I'll bet that if it wasn't for a lot of deadheads like you your 
boss wouldn't be in the hands of the sheriff this day of our Lord. What 
in the devil do you do around here anyhow except open and shut the 
door. Empty the pockets! 

Sheriff No* 2: Say, old "London Bridge a Falling Dowti," where 
do I get a safety pin ? You can't keep these pants up without buttons. 

Bozie: Those are riding breeches, sir, them are not pants. Pants 
is a vulgar expression. 

Sheriff" No. 2: Riding breeches! Somebody in this house'll be 
riding in the patrol wagon in a few minutes. How do 1 feel ? Umph, 
the same as I look — a damned old fool! 

Sheriff No. 1: Here, boy, get me a drink. (Drinks with loud 
bubbling noise.) That whiskey tastes like kerosene oil. 

Sheriff No. 2: If you don't take your head away from that bottle 
you'll have paralysis of the neck. 

Sheriff Nou 1: I'll take one more drink if ye please there "old 
open and shut the door!" Ah, Murphy, this one drink takes me all 
the way back home to Athlone. Do you remember the poteen under 
the hill ? And wasn't them the grand old wakes ? Ah, poor Nick 
Callan, oh, what a wake. 

Bozie: Shall I present you, Sii's? Little fellow, you're the serv- 
ant, so try to be meek and humble. 

Sheriff No. 2: (Assumes belligerent attitude.) Since when is 
servants meek and humble in this country. I'll have none of your lip. 
You've been looking for a paste in the jaw ever since I came in. 

Sheriff No. 1 : Murphy, let's go in and get this part of the monkey 
business over with. 

(Sheriffs, newly attired, re-enter.) 

Enter — Miss Lloyd and her maid. 

Mill Lloyd: I just had to come over and thank you for those 
beautiful carnations. A talk over the telephone is so unsatisfactory. 

Jimmy: Yes, there is always some one on the wire. Cupid is 
always on my line. 

Miss Lloyd: Yes, Cupid always makes a happy connection. He 
never crosses the wire of love. 

Jimmy: (Turning suddenly from Miss Lloyd.) A thousand 
pardons, you really must excuse me. This is my dear Uncle Bx'idge- 
water, and his servant, Murphy. 

Sheriff No. 1: Murphy, get me a match. 

Sheriff No. 2: Now, where in the devil do you get that stuff? 

Jimmy: (Aside.) Here's a match, rest easy. You see Uncle 
Bridgewater just got in this morning from Buenos Aires. Dear Uncle, 
Miss Lloyd is the one girl whose orders I am only too glad to obey. 

Sheriff No. 1: She's a fine bit of a girl. I say there. Murphy, a 
fine girl the boy's picked Up. 

Sheriff No. 2: She'll pass all right. (Attempts to pinch her 
cheek.) Could be a bit plumper about the neck. 

Miss Lloyd: Jimmy Forbes, will you listen to your Uncle? 
(Aside.) Why doesn't his servant retire? 

Jimmy: Uncle wishes to demonstrate the new democracy of Eng- 
land. There is no more "class" in England. The Master and Man 
business has disappeared. Unk is a great old codger. Regular dia- 
mond in the rough. 

Miss Llcvd: Your excellency, what do you think of the situation 

— 24 — 



in Europe ? ' 

Sheriff No. 1: Well, Ma'am, Pershing is strong as horse-radish. 
But take it from me, the members of the Hohenzollem Benevolent As- 
sociation will soon be paying ^ death claim for Brother Bill. Some 
night the Kaiser will be L lowing the foam off his suds and thinking 
what a great Ike he is, whti^ .-ome ginny will let him have a mallet on 
the coco. 

JMiss Lloyd: You x..isunderstand me. I m.ean the peace situation 
at Versailles. 

Sheriff No. 1: (Familiarly, legs crossed lazily.) Well, young- 
lady, look for bloody .hell from this day on. The fighting Sixty-ninth 
came home yesterday. In a few days there'll be no war, except 
amongst the Sixty-ninth. 

Sheriff No. 2: (Pulls out pipe and tobacco pouch, begins packing- 
pipe.) Right you are. Me two boys are in that bunch of rough 
necks. Oh, man, what that gang did to them square heads ain't 
in the book. 

Jimmy: (Motioning to Sheriff No. 2 to put up pipe.) Yes, the 
New York police will soon be busy. Yes, Murphy had two sons in that 
bunch of fighters from France. 

Sheriff No. 2: (Lights pipe, blows an awful cloud of smoke 
tow'ards Miss Lloyd.) Ah me, me only regi-et is that they didn't stay 
and fight for Home Rule in Ireland. 

Miss Lloyd: (Gaspingly.) You must be a Sinn Feiner! 

Sheriff No. 2: (With stem of pipe pointing resentfully at Miss 
Lloyd.) I'm a Democrat, and attend Father Kelly's on Seventh — 

Jimmy: (Quickly.) From dear old London, yes. Father Kelly's 
little church up in Marylebone Road. 

Miss Lloyd: You must be a proud father to have had two sons in 
France fighting for world fredom and democracy. 

Sheriff No. 2: They're fightin men because they belong to the 
Sixty-ninth, and because their name is Murphy. But they'll soon be 
fighting Tammany for political jobs. 

Jimmy: (In alarm.) Yes, fighting against the corrupt Tammany. 
Mr. Murphy's two sons are vitally interested in anything that concerns 
the political uplift. Fighting for France, that's what the Murphys 
have been doing. Hurrah for the Murphys! 

Sheriff: The Murphys are fighters, but the Murphy gang can't 
stand them damned Frenchies. All day long men kissing one another 
on the cheek. Oh, Mommer, if any of those Frenchies had tried to 
kiss Sergeant Hogan on the cheek, it would have been good night to 
the French Army. 

Miss Lloyd: How odd! Really untutored! The war seems to 
have had its effect on the culture of England. 

Sheriff No. 2: Why, Madam, this war is being felt as far South 
as Philadelphia. 

Jimmy: Uncle, I want you to come over and look at my new 
Whistler. I just got it a few days ago. 

Sheriff No. 1: Well, why in the devil don't you hang it right side 
up! That picture's upside down, or my name's not Reilly. 

Jimmy: None of that English slang. Uncle. Miss Lloyd will not 
understand you. Or my name's not Reilly is an old bit of English 
slang uncle has never been able to rid himself of. 

Miss Lloyd: Talking ctf Whistlers, don't you think that — 

Sheriff No. 2: Yes, talking about Whistlers. Why, I had an uncle 
who, afore he came to America, drove a bus in Tottenham Court Road, 
aiid how that man could whistle. 

Miss Lloyd: And how did you get along in Buenos Aires without 
any knowledge of the language ? 

— 25 — 



Sheriff No. 1: Our money talked. American and English gold 
talks every language except German. 

Miss Lloyd: South America is a land of vast possibilities, is it 
not? 

Sheriff No. 1 : It rained everyday while we were there! We didn t 
leave the hotel. 

Miss Lloyd: Did you suffer any from sea-sickness on the way up 
from Buenos Aires ? 

Sheriff No. 2: Not a particle, we came by rail over the Pennsyl- 
nia lines out of and — 

Jimmy: You don't mean to say the steamship Pennsylvania is 
still running? 

Sheriff No. 2: (To Jimmy.) Who's the Mayor of this town any- 
way? 

Miss Lloyd: Have you made up your mind as to whether or not 
you'll see Sullivan's opera, the "Mikado." 

Sheriff No. 2: Beg your pardon, Miss, his name was John L., and 
he never writ any opera. He wrote many a wine card, and he had a 
kick in that right. One lick in your kidneys, lady, and out you'd go. 

Miss Lloyd:) I don't know the Mr. Sullivan you have reference to. 

Sheriff No. 2: Well, there was only one Sullivan, and he was 
"Daddy of 'em all." 

Jimmy: (Aside.) Dry up you bone heads! You're too far out! 
Come in on the beach or you'll drown. 

Sheriff No. 2: I'm next. No more talk about the Sullivan family! 

Jimmy: Let me do the talking, you fellows listen! 
Enter — Bozie. 

Bozie: Mr. Arthur Thornton, in the library, awaits your pleasure! 

Jimmy: Come along, uncle, I want you to meet Arthur. Yes, by 
all means bring Murphy along, there's no telling when you may need 
him. 

Sheriff No. 2: No fear, sir. Murphy's a-coming with bells on. 

Jimmy: (Aside.) Thank God! My dear Miss Lloyd, you'll ex- 
cuse us all a moment. 

Sheriff No. 1 : Say, young fellow, no funny work now that you've 
got me dressed up like a nut and afraid to go into the street. 

Jimmy: (With one arm over the shoulder of sheriff.) "For that's 
a Jolly Good Fellow—" (EXEUNT.) 

Miss Lloyd: (Leaning over in chair.) What is the meaning of 
all this ? So crude, and Jimmy such a nice boy. 

Maid: Just what Captain Saunders, spiteful old dog, meant for 
you to see. His Uncle Bilgewater, my eye. They're true enough 
sheriffs, and don't forget that. Ma'am. It's Mister Jimmy who finds 
himself in a tight fix and is up to some of his tricks in getting out. 
Sheriffs and policemen is what my old father never allowed in the 
house, even on Saturday nights when he had a bit of a bun on. All 
of our family's been agin the police since the landlord in Roscommon 
threatened pa. You bet pa didn't move, and what is more he didn't 
pay either. Then there was Uncle John, who was as peaceable a 
man in all Mayo, but was opposed to paying rent, and the very men- 
tion of sheriffs upsets Uncle John so that he shoots 'em on sight. 

Miss Lloyd: Norah, my child, don't go on with all your Irish 
rig-a-marolc when you see how deep bowed dowTi I am with trouble. 
His troubles will be my undoing. Yet, withal, the situation is one 
of his own creation and very amusing. He should be punished for his 
awful fabrication relating to his uncle. 

Maid: They're both a fly pair of jacks, let me tell you. Look 
what the little fellow slipped into my hand. (Reads note.) "See you 
outside the Hippodrome at 8 to-night. Doll up in your best and I'll 

— 26 — 



show you how I treats a Jane." Murphy. And he wearing a wed- 
ding ring biggern a barrel hoop. 

Miss Lloyd: Oh, what shall I do ? 

Maid: What shall you do, Ma'am, What have those devilish 
lawyers done what you hired to get him ovit ? Didn't you put up the 
money with those lawyer folks to pay his debts and get him out of the 
tangle ? These New York lawyers seem to think every case they get 
hold of is a Pittsburgh proposition. Money to get you out; money to 
get you in; money to get you back again. One of my uncles was up 
for forging a check, and he wouldn't hire a lawyer, and — 

Miss Lloyd: Just think of the disgrace! 

Maid: Having the sheriff seize you ain't no disgrace. I had an 
uncle what was hanged, and my sister's first husband kept a gasoline 
station. Lord, you don't know what disgrace is. 

Enter — Sir Bridgewater. 

Sir B. F.: (Pulling on mustache, meditative mood.) Deucedly 
jolly clever thing she did by bonding this seizure through surety con- 
cern. Didn't think she knew enough to get about such a tangle. And 
she's the one who undoubtedly fixed up that check marked "Not suffi- 
cient funds." By Harry, the very cleverness of that girl has knocked 
all my schemes into a cocked hat. There must be something to the 
rascal when a fine girl goes to such lengths to save his name and 
credit. And if my description of the lady is correct there she is now 
receiving my gaff with a most disconcerting disdain. My dear young 
girl, as I am the individual responsible for this whole affair, I "wish" a 
word or two with you. 

Miss Lloyd: (Standing, angrily.) I'll have nothing to say to you, 
sir! You must be one of those hateful old money lenders. My attor- 
neys and the bonding company will adjust any claims you may have 
against the poor boy. 

Sir B. F.: You do me honor. Madam. I am not a money lender. 
I am a money giver. While Fll not argue with such a divine creature 
as yourself, I am determined to reveal in no uncertain manner the 
type of man whom you would serve. 

Miss Lloyd: You are impertinent ,sir. Do you know to whom you 
are speaking. First, you would crush him financially, and lastly, for 
revenge, try and destroy him in the eyes of one who knows his worth. 
Of all the men in the world, Jimmy Forbes is second to none in good- 
ness of heart. All his faults are virtues. 

Sir B. F.: Madam, you have summarized the situation xery well. 
He is being used for that same goodness which you find so endearing. 
He is being used. He is the dupe of many wily individuals. His 
benevolence and friendship have made him the plaything of a con- 
spiring lot. Beware of the individual who pretends to love us all, he 
is the chap who will bear cautious looking after. 

Miss Lloyd: Your remarks bespeak an experience which at all 
events should lead you to be charitable. 

Sir B. F.: The benefit of my experience is yours only in the hope 
of saving you from some folly. I would not ha^e you lose anything 
in this deplorable affair. 

Miss Lloyd: I am fully able to look after my own interests. Your 
conduct is reprehensible. You would grind this poor boy down just be- 
cause he is open-hearted, generous and jolly. My arrangements must 
be carried out, and they will be carried out if it takes all the lawyers 
in New York to do it. I must have my way. 

Sir B. F,: Glorious little woman! Sunbeam of cheerfulness! I 
can no longer refrain fi'om introducing myself. You are talking to 
the boy's best friend, his Uncle Bridgewater Forbes. For some time 

— 27 — 



1 have had Jimmy under observation without any knowledge on his 
part. Whatever's been done has been my woi'k, and all with a view 
of making a man of Jimmy. Jimmy's my boy, you know: 

Miss Lloyd: Oh, my dear sir, you really must forgive me. Sir 
Bridgewater, think me not bold or forward. I just had to help Jimmy. 
I can't help liking him. (Crying.) I just — 

Sir B. F.: There, there, little lady! Don't take on so. Compose 
yourself. (Aside.) Lucky dog that Jimmy. Hov/ shall I repay such 
kindness to a member of the Forbes lamily. While you have been 
helping my boy, I have been sort of helping you out in connection with 
a cotton claim of the firm of Lloyd & Lloyd, an old cotton firm of much 
prominence in New Orleans during the war between the States. 

Miss Lloyd: That's my claim through the death of daddy. And 
I assure you while I am deeply grateful of the interest you are dis- 
playing in my behalf, I must advise you that my guardian, Mr. Willis, 
has entrusted my affairs to Captain Saunders, a man whose influence 
in Washington is greater than that of the President. 

Sir B. F.: So he's infected you also with bacillus bunkitis. Madam, 
that loud-muothed fellow, prowling around here like a hungry cat 
making his rounds, is nothing more or less than a downright fraud. 
He is known only through his promises — indeed, not through any ful- 
fillment of them. His deeds are as uncertain as his character. So- 
cially and politically he is a bad one. 

Miss Lloyd : Is it possible ? I have been deceived. Sh, here he 
comes now. 

Sir B. F.: (Fingers to lips.) Be careful. Let not my identity 
become known. My visit to America is not for the public. (Aside.) 
By Harry, what a nerve that man has! What swank! 

Enter — Saunders. 

Captain Saunders: (Waving cane out doorway to some unseen 
individual.) Take the car home — take it home, I say. Send me back 
a roadster. I am only going over to see Billy McAdoo. Why, Miss 
Lloyd, you on the scene already. Always ready to do a down and 
outer a good turn. This is most embarassing to me — especially as I 
was the one who really vouched for his entrance into the best families 
and clubs of New York. (Puts down cane on table.) 

Miss Llayd: (Takes both of Saunders' hands into her own.) You 
are such a good kind man. Is there any way we could help Jimmy ? 

(Bridgewater, long violent blowing of nose.) 

Saunders: Absolutely no way out of it. I had a letter from his 
uncle in London two days ago, and he said it is his intention to cut 
him off completely. In my correspondence with this same uncle I 
told him of my efforts to do something for the boy, but it was abso- 
lutely of no use. Absolutely no use. (Clears his throat.) 

Sir B. F.: (With vehemence.) You know his uncle? I presume 
you are friends. 

Saunders: (With an ingratiating and sarcastic look.) Friends, 
did you say? I believe we are friends. Why, the old rascal bor- 
rowed a hundred pounds from me at the last cup race, and my name's 
not Saunders if I ever received a farthing from the old rascal up to 
this very hour and minute. Ask the money lenders of London who is 
Bridgewater's best friend, and they'll say, "Oh, some fellow by the 
name of Saunders, a sort of quiet man who never talks about what he 
does." The next time you get over that way just make some inquiries 
as to who Snunders really is, and what he counts for. 

Miss Lloyd: I have heard that Sir Bridgewater Forbes at the 
present time is not in England. They say he is abroad on an impor- 
tant mission for the Government. 

— 28 — 



Saunders: Sure he is abroad, but I don't think it would be jusi. 
the thing- to disclose his whereabouts. (Winks towards the real Sir 
B. F.) Can't be too careful until peace is signed. 

Sir B. F. : Right you are; one cannot be too careful. 

Miss Lloyd: Oh, where, where is he? Will he come to New York 
to see Jimmy, and straighten out matters? • 

Saunders: (Reading from a little note book.) At the present 
moment he is in Halifax looking after some of the minor details con- 
cerning- a new dock which the British Admiralty is having built. 

Miss Lloyd: And how came you with such glorious news? 

Saunders: Well, that's the story! Did you ever see my cable to 
Lloyd George ? Well, that's what turned the trick for old Bridgey. 

Sir B. F.: By Harry, you did that, sir? Egad! 

Saunders: Do you question my word, sir? 

Miss Lloyd: Oh, you're so kind, Captain. No wonder every one 
is talking- about you. This friend of yours, Sir Bridgewater, must be 
a man of brains to be entrusted with such an important mission in 
these perilous times. 

Saunders: Brains did you say? Why he's a Forbes out and out 
Never knew any of the Forbes' to have sense, did you ? Well, this 
fellow Bridgewater, I call him Bridgey for short, well, he hasn't 
enough brains to fill a fountain pen. He got the job because he car- 
ried his liquor well. Yet, he's an apprecative dog at that. 

Sir B. F. : Why shouldn't he be appreciative after what you've 
done for him ? They tell me his job is a mighty big one. 

Saunders: Yes, big enough for his m.ind. If he'd more brains 
I'd gotten him a much better job. 

Sir B. F,: I was one time told, oh, it was some years ago, in a 
club room, that I looked something like Sir B. Forbes. 

Saunders: You do a bit, except his face is more Germanic in type 
than yours. And, by the way, your face looks very much as if you 
were a Prussian. Bridgey's nose was very red, past red, it was purple. 
He could undress in the dark with ease — just by the glow of his nose. 
Whiskey night and day. Awfui old toper. Whiskey and Port. I 
should say from your looks you are a bit fond of the stuff yourself. 

Sir B. F.: (Aside.) I'll trap him. All this talk about Sir Bridge- 
water reminds me that he is in Boston to-day. I had it by special 
wire from my old friend William Freethy. 

Saunders: Don't believe anything Freethy says. He's an awful 
liar. (Aside.) Now to get out of this. 

Sir B. F.: (Shows telegram.) Here's Freethy's wire, sir. He 
is in Boston this day, v.ithout a doubt. Now, as there is a mutual un- 
derstanding between Miss Lloyd and yourself, and then again between 
Sir B. F. and your good self, what say you to us running up to Boston 
on the Wolverine Express, and then we can have an all round proper 
introduction. I'll stand the treat. You and your old friend can have 
a gay chat together while he reviews the latest papers in the cotton 
claims controversy. No telling, but that he might fork over that £100 
which he got from you some time ago. 

Miss Lloyd: (Sides up with Saunders, and takes him coquetishly 
by the arm.) My dear Captain Saunders, deem not the request of this 
gentleman too lightly, as he is vigorously engaged in pushing my 
claim. Captain Saunders will not refuse this little favor. You'll go 
to Boston with this gentleman? Please! Please! 

Captain Saunders: (Standing as if at military attention.) Your 
word is law. I live to obey. Sir Bridgewater Forbes shall come to 
New York and see your friend. If there is to be any inconvenience, 
]-e.st assured your friend shall suffer none. Old Bridgey Forbes will 
be the one to be inconvenienced. 

— 29 — 



Sir B. F.: Why put him to this trouble? I assure you I'll not be 
inconvenienced. 

Saunders: Have it your way. If you must see him in Boston, 
it is in Boston you will see him. What is to-day, Tuesday ? Can you 
be ready, say, Saturday ? 

Sir B. F.: The matter will brook no delay. It is a case of now or 
never! Miss Lloyd's fortune is at stake. 

Saunders: Well, if it is to be now, it is to be now. But damn my 
soul, I can't get away this day. I have the Russian mission on my 
hands for the next forty-eight hours. Private cables from Wilson 
asking that I steer this Russian gang away from George Harvey, who 
is no longer interested in politics. I'm afraid you'll have to wait at 
least a day or two — 

Sir B. F.: (Beating his bifocals on cheek.) Just a line or two 
will do. A short note will be just the thing. 

Saunders: Letters acocmplish but little in the game of govern- 
ment and politics. You know what the Kaiser did to such little things 
as short notes. When wire-pulling is practiced in America the pullers 
usually do their business face to face. Letter writing is political 
death in America. 

Sir B. F.: A letter will do the work! 

Saunders: (Looking through glasses. Assumes a most serious 
mien.) Do you know to whom you are speaking, sir? Do you dare 
order me about ? Who am I, sir ? The way you order and bluster 
around one would think you were selling supplies to the Govei'nment. 
Are you from Wall Street ? 

Miss Lloyd: (Playfully pulling coat-tails of Captain Saunders.) 
Loyal friend, and staunch partner, supporter of mine, remember the 
letter is not for him, but for me. For me, Captain Saunders. It's poor 
me who is to be benefited. 

Saunders: (In center of stage, hand over heart.) Adorable 
creature. Your slightest wish commands my obedience. You sway 
me the same as Wall Street does the United States Senate. He shall 
have this letter. I shall phone my Secretary, MacNeal, to come up 
at once. No, I'll write it out myself. Let me see if I have that blamed 
fountain pen. (Holds up pen.) You know who gave me that pen? 
Well, that was a present from General Joffre on his second visit. He 
shall have his letter. (EXIT WITH MISS LLOYD.) 

Sir B. F.: (Alone.) Well, this is rich. Hah, hah, hah! No won- 
der Jimmy is a "down-and-outer," with such false and lying friends. 
This was a lucky meeting, and the time is not far off when I'll ask 
Captain Windy to place his cards on the table. Why, the man is a silljJ 
ass. Insipid, boresome creature. Perfect ass. Silly rotter. (Look;; 
into mirror.) The impudence of the devil, "Purple nose." Blamed old 
rotter. Silly old blighter. 

Enter — Bozie, 

Sir B. F.: Bozie, I say. Oh, I say there my man, what's become of 
your master, my nephew. I've had a jolly long wait, you know! 
Cawn't wait much longer! 

Bozie: At your service, my Lord. Just got rid of those sheriffs, 
and that was some job. Gone off with one pound each. What's be- 
come of my master, did you say. Well, I'll tell you, sir. He is head 
over heels in another scrape. 

Sir B. F. : Now, what's up ? More damned foolishness! 

Bozie: He's helping the young folks to get married. They're off 
for God knows where, and he's a furnishing them with the money for 
the longest journey in the world. 

Sir B. F.: And pray, who are the people he is helping? I say, 

— 30 — 



there, Bozie, and who ai'e the people he is aiding and abetting in this 
most foolhardy act ? 

Bozie: The brother and sister living beyond the hedge. 

Sir B. F.: (Opens eyes very wide; mouth just as wide; stands 
stock still.) Brother and sister! (Long subdued whistle.) 

Bozie: Oh, no, not quite that bad, even if it is New York. (Ex- 
plains in a whisper.) She passes for his sister. 

Sir B, F.: But she passes for his sister, and I dare say that's 
quite proper. But you can't pass checks off for money unless there 
is money in the bank. How in the name of all common sense can your 
Master Jimm> supply this couple with a commodity of which he has 
none. Real cash is the one article not subject to camouflage. Passing 
sisters aind passing checks are entirely different in their consequences. 

Bozie: That's the very thing, sir. He gives them a check. He 
is even loanmg me to go along and take care of the bride. 

Sir B. F. : With you being loaned out to take care of the bride, 
who's going to take care of his house, and pray, who's to look after 
the comforts of the boy ? 

Bozie: We're closing the blooming old barracks, and the ship 
will soon be on the move. Master Jimmy is a-going to South America. 

Sir B. F.: And his headquarters from now on, where will they 



oe 



Bozie: He's bunked up dowTi at a place called Huckelberry Inn. 
The boss of the place and Mister Jimmy are old-time pals. The boy's 
had some gay times there. 

Sir B. F. : And the check, my man? What about the check? 
Issuing a voucher on his bankers and Not Sufficient Funds to cover 
same. What will he do when this check comes back to his bankers? 

Bozie: Oh, he generally goes around and bulls the cashier and 
staves him off till your remittance arrives. The sister has the check 
now. I think. 

Sir B. F.: But, I say there, Bozie, why in the devil have you been 
selected as chaperone to this young woman ? 

Bozie: On account of my high moral character, and then the lov- 
ing pair is taking two different routes, and practicing a little bit of 
new elopement camouflaggy. The groom is supposed to return to 
camp to bo discharged. I'he whole family sees him off. Sis stays 
home with a sick headache, and then she dodges out the back door. 
The details of an elopement is never interesting, it's the results what 
counts. 

Sir B. F.: Upon my word. You the chaperone! Oh, I say, there 
Bozie, how do you feel in your new moral role ? 

Bozie: I'm all right, sir, but I can't afford to lose much time 
with this marriage business. Master Jimmy and I are going to South 
America, and don't wish to miss the boat. No true Britisher can stay 
prowling around the White Way when he's broke. 

Sir B. F.: So you're going to abandon New York and all its 
frolics for work, eh, my man? 

Bozie: Not alone me, but Tommy Fleet's a-going home, sir. 
Why, he's already got a uniform from som.e bloke down at the Mc- 
Alpin Hotel. Tommy's a regular toft. 

Sir B. F. : Tommy! I presume you're referring to your master's 
drunken butler. You know, I'll hate to leave old New York myself. 
It's such an enjoyable place. 

Bozie: Enjoyable place, did you say Well, and then some. Did 
you ever hear what Lillian Russell said about New York? Well, she 
said: The Jews own it, the Irish run it, and the whole world enjoys it. 

Sir B. F.: I dare say she was right about the whole v.orld enjoy- 
ing it. Let me not detain vou any longer, my good man! Do not tarrv; 

— 31 — 



the wedding festival awaits thee! A pleasant honeymoon! 

Bozie: A honeymoon with more than two can't be pleasant, you 
know, sir. 

Sir B. F. : Sound philosophy, Bozie. Of course, the honeymoon is 
the matrimonial miscroscope. 

Bozie: Well, here's hoping that I don't have to look into the 
blooming microscope. Oh, my, it was the luck of my life that Ma- 
honey, the driver, was drunk that night and pitched me into Foley's 
ditch. 

Sir B. F.: What night? Of what are you talking? 

Bozie: The night I was to be married, sir. I was on my way to 
the church with my brother, and the jaunting car landed bottom up 
in Foley's ditch. Mc with a sprained ankle, my right arm fractured in 
two, and my head cut in a dozen places. For once in my life I was 
lucky. Another ten minutes and I'd been gone for life. Do you know 
the lady ,this young Arthur is going to marry ? 

Sir B. F.: I know something of the bride and her family. It's a 
first rate catch the young fellow is making. By the by, Bozie, it 
strikes me that Miss Lloyd is not altogether unfavorably disposed 
towards your master. That's a match I would be proud to see con- 
summated. It seems as if tlie probabilities of this are remote, indeed. 
Enough of this planning, let's be about, as I must see Captain Saun- 
ders and obtain the letter of introduction to my own drunken self. 

(EXEUNT.) 



ACT IV. 

Scene: Library in the Willis home. 
Saunders: (Worried look; talking to himself in rambling fashion.) 
Yes, I am running in and out of tight places. Talking about spilling 
the beans, oh, maybe I haven't put myself in Dutch. Promises all 
day long. (Puts glasses on, looks towards door.) Now to lay plans 
to capture the fair Miss Lloyd. I'll have to do some tall promising to 
land such a prize. But the deal must go through. Ah, ah, ah, my 
dear Jimmy Forbes. So it is! Upon my word, Jimmy Forbes, and 
free and happy, if looks count for anything. 

Enter — Jimmy Forbes. 

Mr. Forbes, this is indeed a pleasure. To see you out again, free 
from the annoyances of the shyster attorney and the crooked monej 
lender, does my heart good. Enough of this unfortunate episode, I 
shall not discuss the matter any further. 

Jimmy F.: It was an awful hDle to be in, while it lasted, but the 
worst of it is I am unable to lay hands on the individual who got me 
out of the mess. 

Saunders: Don't know the chap who furnished the cosh and got 
you loose. Ha, ha-ha-ha-ha. (Long laughter.) 

Jimmy F.: Why this laughter? All my inquiries on the subject 
have been of no avail. 

Saunders: Then don't ask me a thing about the affair, for I shall 
tell j'ou nothing. 

Jimmy F.: That's not fair. You have me puzzled. I must ask 
you one question, and you must answer me truthfully, I demand it. 

Saunders: Keep your questions to yourself. You cannot make me 
expose my hand. 

Jimmy F.: Just what I suspected from the beginning. You have 

— 32 — 



been my benefactor, and with your usual modesty you would deny it. 
How can I ever repay such kindness ? 

Saunders: Let the matter end for once and for all right here, at 
this very minute. I'll have no more talk of this. 

Jimmy F.: But isn't there some small favor I could do — isn't there 
something for me to do to show my gratefulness — my appreciation ? 

Saunders: A trifle, a mere trifling favor. Just an everyday oc- 
currence with me! So the obligation will not be too one-sided. I am 
determined, though against my wishes, to give you a chance to shov/ 
vour gratefulness. You shall be grateful. I'll not disappoint you. 

Jimmy F.: What can I do to serve one so kind and noble? 

Saunders: (Walking up and down room, hand to breast.) I'm 
in love. Desperately and madly in love, with a lady with whom your 
influence counts for much. I'm in love with Miss Lloyd, and I want 
you to lay my case before her feet. 

Jimmy F,: (Involuntary recoil.) Make love to Miss Lloyd? 

Saunders: Yes. I am gone this time with hook, line, sinker, and 
bait. 

Jimmy F.: Do you know Miss Lloyd? 

Saunders: (Unduly familiar.) I know the young lady. I know 
you. The young lady knows me. You know me. That's all the know- 
ing necessary. The less one knows in love, the better things are all 
around. The happiness of my heart, and I may say the young lady's 
also, is entrusted to your care. You know where I stand. If you have 
need of me now or in the future, you will find me at your side. Friends 
we are, friends forever we shall rem.ain. My cause is in your hands. 
Now, don't thank me any more for the trivial aid you received at my 
hands. No more thanking, the thing is ended. (EXIT.) 

Jimmy F.: I love you, Grace, with all my heart. Captain Saun- 
ders shall never know of my love. Generous friendship shall not be 
betrayed. I'll bring them together. They shall be happy. It'll be 
au revoir old U. S. A., not good-by. Once in South America I can 
begin my dreams about the American girl I left behind me. In the 
tropics one forgets. (Looks at his watch.) I am a bit too early it 
seems. Well, I'll be back later. I guess I'd better leave this little 
note or I'll be disappointed again. (Rings bell and leaves note with 
maid.) For Miss Lloyd, please! (EXIT.) 

Enter — Mae and Maid. 

Mae: That this was the end instead of the beginning of the jour- 
ney. What has become of Bozie? To cash a check does not take 
two hours. What bank has he gone to ? Are we all ready ? 

Maid: We're about as ready, Ma'am, as we'll ever be. Are you 
ready? You haven't fogotten anything. Have you a night shirt for 
him. Ma'am ? The kitchen do say he is opposed to pajamas, and he 
takes a hot toddy just afore he climbs into bed, and — there was my 
uncle from — 

Mae: Shut up, here's Bozie at last. 
Enter — Bozie. 

Mae: (Grabbing towards Bozie, as if eager to get message or 
money.) What on earth kept you? Where have you been? I'll 
wager he has been stopping a while at a public house! We've been 
ready this last half hour. Let us move — no more time to lose. 

Bozie: Ye'U not move far. Ma'am, I'm thinking. 

Mae: (Catches Bozie by the lapels of the coat.) Now, what's 
the occasion for further delay ? 

Bozie: (Carelessly and as if pleased.) Oh, nothing very much, 
except the bank says there are Not Sufficient Funds to pay Master 
Jimmy's check. 

— 33 — 



Mae: You mean to tell me that a bank of suck financial strength 
has not sufficient funds to pay a paltry check of a 100 guineas, or 
$500.00 ? 

Bozie: The bank has, but Master Jimmy hasn't. Some banks 
requires that you have money inside before you can draw on 'em. Not 
all of 'em. There are some banks in this 'ere town would loan money 
to me if I put up the right sort of bluff. There's been trust companies 
in this here towTi what actually gave money away because the vaults 
was crowded. 

Mae: Is it possible that your master hasn't the privilege of an 
overdraft? It's quite common at home among the best people. 

Bozie: Mister Jimmy is too honest to be granted an overdraft 
account. In New York the overdraft is a privilege allowed only to 
crooks and public officials. An overdraft in New York means over 
crooked. 

Mae: I don't desire a lecture on the morals of New York finance. 

Bozie: There's no morals to New York finance, so there'll be be 
lecture. 

3Iae: But that's not explaining why this Forbes chap should treat 
Arty in such a shameful manner. It does appear as if this Forbes 
person has gammoned the whole Willis family. 

Bozie: (Hand uplifted in protest.) Say not harsh words against 
my young master. I'll hear none of it. I'm the only individual who 
holds the privilege of setting him in his place when he's a-needing it. 

Maid: My little woodchick, I'd quit worrying now. Things will 
right themselves. Just before Mr. Willis stepped into the motor car 
he handed Mr. Arthur the sum of $1,000.00 for getting the war cross. 
Now, I'll tell you what let's do. You write Mr. Arthur a short letter 
and it'll reach him on his train before it arrives at Fenchurch Dale. 

Mae: Fancy! How clever! I'll write him and suggest a division 
of the funds. Oh, I'm so nei-vous. You must write the note for mo. 
How was his father transformed into such a state as to give money 
away ? 

Maid: He was that proud of the boy for getting the war cross 
that you'd a-thought he'd been made a policeman. Ma'am, you're not 
in earnest about me writing a note to such a grand man as Mr. Arthur. 
I VN-rite something like my Uncle Dan in the bank. 

Mae: Great Scott, you have an uncle in the bank and not saying 
a word of it when we're so hard pressed for funds. What position 
does he occupy in the bank ? 

Maid: Oh, he's high up. 

Mae: Do say, and what does he do? 

Maid: He looks after the drafts. Ma'am. He is the second porter, 
and has charge of the windows and doors. He keeps the drafts out. 

Mae: Put your mind to the letter! 

Maid: Oh, what shall I write? 

Mae: Oh, anything. Just hurry. Here's my fountain pen! 

Maid: If you're nervous. Ma'am, I ought to be in Mattawean for 
my complaint. 

Mae: Write, oh, write any old thing. Hurry! 

Maid: This is a good fountain pen. I can tell 'em every time how 
they works. This works just like a fountain. (Gets ink all over 
hand.) Now, for the letter: 

"Mr. Willis— five hundred dollars!" Ma'am? 

Mae: Sure that'll do. That's a fine start. Just hurry matters 
a bit. 

Maid: "With the clerk of Huckelberry Inn till called for. The 
whole thing will be blown up. An awful explosion coming. Money 

— 34 — 



or happiness gone forever!" I'll close with a heart stabbed by an 
arrow. It makes it romantic. 

Mae: Anything. Hearts, lungs or anything, so long as you end 
and get it off to Mr. Arthur. Now, how are we going to get it to the 
poor boy ? That's the whole question. None of the servants are to be 
trusted out of your sight. 

Maid: Ah, but there's a bright lad in the next room. He's a real 
old dear. Mr. Fleet, a most reliable man. He was Mr. Forbes' butler. 
He'd do anything for me. He reminds me of an uncle who used to 
drive a cab in Derry. Ah, but uncle was the bright lad. He'd haul 
nothing but gentlemen what was drunk. He had a fine collectoin of 
gold watches and — 

Bozie: Yes, who. Fleet? You mean he'd do anything to you. 

Maid: (Hands on hips. Lips curled in derision. Head tossed 
to one side.) Why, for me he'd jump off the Flatii'on Building. 

Bozie: I wish he would, just once, that's all. 

Maid: You're jealous of his position. 

Bozie: Me jealous of "old knives and forks!" Why the idea! 
Not much. I'm opposed to his going on any such important errands 
as getting money, as something is moi-e than liable to happen. He's 
full of whiskey all day long. He'll scramble the eggs for the honey- 
moon omelette all right, all right. 

Maid: He's a gentleman. He ought to be in society. Any man 
who can keep full of whiskey all day without getting drunk is en- 
titled to go into the highest society in New York. That's something 
else you didn't know. Now, there was my uncle who went to Austra- 
lia. Why, he could dowTi his two quarts every night after supper, 
and he mixed in the best society. 

Bozie: Well, things is not very much different at home in Okie 
England! 

Mae: Your philosophies as to society are a bit wearisome, so both 
of you cease chattering. Let the man have the message. Any re- 
liable servant will do for the carrying of a note. (EXIT MAID, 
Norah.) 

Now% Bozie, things seem to be brighter and righting themselves. 
Bestir yourself with the luggage. Don't stand by with your hands 
open expecting me to fill thom with portmanteaus and tupeny pieces. 

Bozie: (Resentful, ludicrous; pout on face.) Not so fast, young 
lady. In a few years from now you might be a-thanking Bozie that 
his delay left the groom waiting at the church. I'll tell ye about my 
wedding. Talk about lucky. If the driver of the Athlone jaunting 
car hadn't got drunk and turned us all over in Foley's ditch I might 
be a poor married man to-day. It was Foley's ditch that saved me 
many an unhappy night. I once worked for a wall paper man named 
Harris. Oh, this was when I was a boy, and it was through his ad- 
vice I am single. One day he up and said to me, "women is hell, ain't 
they. Talk about having hard luck v/ith wives, why they is hell," and 
as he had about four wives I guessed he was right. He said his first 
two wives were peaches, but, oh, mommer, the last two, well, they was 
pippins. Poor old Harris leaned on my shoulder and cried about the 
woman question. He said his first wife was a booze fighter, and the 
last one a prizefightei". 

Mae: Bozie, this is no time for Irish stories. Can't you see I'm 
all eagerness to get away ? Was there ever such a slow poke ? 

Bozie: Yes, Madam, slow poke is ready. Have ye everything you 
and the new man will bo needing? Are ye sure you're ready? Well, 
let's carry on. Have ye shaving soap, and ,er, excuse me, Ma'am, but 
you know of Mr. Arthur's little peculiarity. Ma'am ? 

Mae: (In alann.) His little peculiarity? Has he any peculiari- 
— 85 — 



ties ? In what way is he eccentric ? 

Bozie: The stable crowd says so! 

Mae: Speak quick, man! In what way is he eccntric? 

Bozie: He uses the old-fashioned night shirt. He don't weai 
pajamas. And he takes a hot toddy every night afore going to bed. 

Mae: The kitchen and the stable seem to be fairly well posted 
as to the personal and hygienic peculiarities of their employers. 
Enough of this. Kindly refrain from making any allusions to my 
fiancee. 

Enter — Maid. 

Maid: It's all off now. Was there ever such a plague of trouble 
since my old Uncle Tim broke the pledge. That dirty, nasty old gin- 
head, Tommy Fleet, lost the letter. 

Mae: That's not such a terrible crime for one whom you have just 
described as a paragon of virtue. Write another letter. Just hurry! 
Hurry, hurry, do you hear me ? 

Maid: It'l' do no good. Madam. Old man Willis, snooping around 
the premises like a submarine on the Irish coast, found the letter the 
old dunce lost. Don't you hear the racket outside? 

Mae: Fancy finding one's self in such a nasty and embarrassing 
predicament. I am just about ready to give up, and fly home to Dub- 
lin. How unfortunate I am? Whatever led me into such folloy? 

Maid: Don't you fret little girley! The letter is so much Greek 
to him. He'll not be able to understn'd what we're driving at. Maybe 
he'll cool down. Nov/, there was my Uncle George who had such a 
temper, especially when he had a wee bit aboard, and — 

Mae: Bother your uncles. It's your Uncle Dan, and your Uncle 
Tim, and no end of uncles. (Takes letter.) Well, all praise to you, 
the letter is finished, and this time we are off for good and forevei-. 

(The trio look around, and with much whispering they 
leave.) (EXEUNT.) 

Enter— Willis. 

Willis: (In a rage. Hair disheveled, pounding his fists, laboring 
under the most violent emotion. By the eternal Gods! A new out- 
rage! They wish to destroy me! Why am I to be put to death? Why 
will they have my life? What have I been singled out for? Why 
can't they kill some office holder? Why can't they hang the coal 
man? No baser plot for a man's life was ever laid! Blackhands that 
deal death when least expected ! The hand of a Socialist can be seen 
in this whole affair. Oh, why did I ever go near one of those infernal 
Socialist meetings? The I. W. W. ai'e now after me. I'll not be 
blackmailed! I'll not be stabbed to death either! It's my end! A 
letter dropped right at my feet! Goodness, it gives me the shivers 
just to think of my fate. Shot to death from behind! No chance at 
all! Hacked to pieces by stilettos. (Goes through motion of wield- 
ing a knife.) The diity dagoes! Great Scott, is there no way of get- 
ting out of it? Every time I read it I get the creeps! I'll read it 
again. "Mr. Willis: $500.00, at the clerk of the Huckleberry Inn," a 
desperate road house! A road house means ruin to any family man! 
"$500.00 with the clerk of the Huckleberry Inn until called for, or all 
will be blown up. Do not delay." Five hundred dollars, the wretches, 
the miserable puppies. "All will be blown up." Most likely drop a 
bomb! Oh, Lord, tell this poor honest family man something to do 
to avert this catastrophe. Will I, or shall I call up the police ? I dare 
not see the police since Tammany went back into office. (Reading 
on.) "All will be blown up." What's this scribbling I see at the bot- 
tom ? My gracious. "We have no money, and you must not keep us 
waiting for any. Just send it as quickly as possible." The scoundrels. 

— 36 — 



No more of this. I'll have none of it. The very idea of being stabbed 
through the heart by a Socialist. (Looks intently at letter.) That's 
a heart all right. That's my heart, too. And worse still, that's a 
knife going right through. Good-by Old World. Yes, it's good-by 
for me — and my race is but half run. 

Enter — Miss Lloyd. 

Grace: My dear guardian. You're all worked up into a frenzy. 
What is the trouble ? 

Willis: Hell is the trouble! Some time during the week whilst 
the Willis family is enjoying a night's repose, they shall be put to 
death in barbaric fashion. (Puts on hat and looks under table as if to 
seek refuge.) 

Grace: I pray that you are mistaken, my dear guardian! 

Willis: Too late for your prayers. Of what avail your prayers, 
when right here in my hand I hold your death certificate. A certificate 
for you, for the whole family. Yes, even Mrs. Willis must die. (Gloat- 
ingly, almost fiendishly.) No, she'll not escape this time. Now, per- 
haps you'll get up and bestir yourselves when it is too late. Too long 
have you reveled in foolish mirth and laughter. All this family ever 
cared for was three square meals a day and a place to sleep. No, 
never again shall you dance up and down the Halls of Joy. This time 
it is the grim monster Death with whom you will consort. Death 
when you least expect it! 

Grace: You are always alarming us! Every hour of the day and 
night is either murder, fire or suicide! It was only a fortnight ago 
that you declared the coal full of dynamite, and not a soul enjoyed a 
bath for ten days, all because there was no water or heat in the house. 
For five days now I have refrained from eating any marmalade for 
breakfast on account of your saying it was full of ground glass. 

Willis: When the writer of this note gets through with you I dare 
say you will chnage your tune. You'll want cold water. It'll be hot 
enough beloow! Once below you"ll not complain about the marma- 
lade! (Looking around, goes behind screen, etc.) A thorough search 
of the apartments must be made. Look under the beds. Not a light 
must be turned on. Be careful of the boy who brings us the groceries ! 
Under no conditions buy anything of Schwartz, the delicatessen man. 
My dear child, try and be brave! Meet your end calmly as I do! 
Good-by! (EXIT.) 

Enter — Jimmy. 

Jimmy: You'll pardon my boldness for requesting an interview 
in private, but as I am about ready to leave for South America I knew 
this would be my only chance to say something of the utmost impor- 
tance to you, and so here I am to plead the cause of one who loves you. 
Don't become alarmed! The cause of one who loves you with that 
divine passion, whose soul happiness rests in you. Yes, loves you — 

Grace: Your description is rather vague, and I fear that I will be 
unable to determine to whom you have reference. 

Jimmy: The description offered makes him only too well knowTi — 
his modesty and humility leave him powerless to sue for your hand. 

Grace: Well, I'll not affect ignorance any longer. I have always 
loved him, and will continue to do so forever and ever. 

Jimmy: (About to collapse.) (Aside.) She always loved him. 
As you are already sensible of his worth, his passion, I'll not delay in 
ocnveying my friend the good news. 

Grace: (Shrieks.) Your friend, Jimmy. Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy, 
what do you mean. Jimmy, do you mean it's not — (Cries.) 

Jimmy: My best friend, my true friend. Captain Saunders, a man 
who is true blue and as tried as steel. 

Grace: He, above all men! 

— 37 — 



Jimmy: Your conduct shows the way of your heart, and since 1 
so plainly read both I shall lose no time in acquainting Captain Saun- 
ders with your sentiments. 

Grace: No, Jimmy! No, no, Jimmy! Don't you dare! Be care- 
ful of what you do. Oh, oh, Jimmy, don't you, don't you understand ? 
Oh, Jimmy, look at me, don't you understand? (EXIT.) 

Jimmy: She confesses she loves him, and now she goes off in a 
huff. My wooing may have been a bit too strong. (Aside.) By all 
Broadway, I love you! Grace, if you but only knew! Yes, I under- 
stand! I guess it's an English war widow for this child! 

Enter — Willis (with letter in his hand). Also enter Mrs. Willis. 

Mrs, Willis: Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! And so, Mister Gloomy 
Gus, you would again have me in the dumps! 

Willis: (Mimicking.) Ha, ha, ha, ha. And so, you spluttering, 
jay-hawking suffragette, is that all you can say? 

Mrs. Willis: To hear you fume and scold would make one think 
you were Lord Northcliffe. Listen to the likes of you and we would 
be forever entertaining either the fire or the police department. The 
house and every blamed membr may be blown to Kingdom Come for 
all I care, but I am going to enjoy myself until the performance begins. 
You act as if you were John McGraw! 

Willis: Would to heaven I were John McGraw, and could bat you 
out of my sight. Here we are at the very threshold of death and dis- 
aster, and you jawing away like a Maine Republican. 

Mrs. Willis: If things are that bad let's send them the $500.00, 
and be done with the whole affair. 

Willis: (Aside.) Oh, this is too terrible for me to bear. The 
woman has gone mad. She is insane! Gone mad! Well, I expected 
it some day or other! The whole blooming family is crazy. Mad! 
Give them the $500.00 and be done with the whole affair. Great Scott, 
my wife's gone insane! 

Jimmy: (Yawning.) Please shut up. I am tired of your do- 
mestic barrage! Why don't you call in the police? 

Willis: Call in the police. Why, you're gone mad, too! You 
seem to be in the worse condition than the wife! Call the police and 
be held up for at least another $500.00. 

Jimmy F.: Let me have a look at the letter. (Takes letter and 
reads same.) Why, this is a very simple proposition after all. All 
you need do, my dear Mr. Willis, is to go to the clerk of the Huckle- 
lieryy Inn and leave the $500.00. 

Willis: Oh, so that is all I have to do! Why don't you go down 
there and leave $500.00 of your owti? 

Jimmy F. : You know I would in a minute, but the fact of the 
matter is that I just let a friend of mine have this identical amount to 
steer him clear of danger. And then, again, I'm not even mentioned 
in the letter. 

Willis: (Goes ajid lays his hands on Jimmy's shoulder.) Forbes, 
you mu.st excuse my disagreable temper. If it wasn't for my wife I'd be 
a good man! Jimmy, what say you if we motor down to Huckleberry Inn 
and get a good suppei*. Then we can nose around a bit and land this 
letter writing scoundrel in jail, v.'here he belongs! I'm surprised that 
the management of Huckleberry Inn would allow their hou-e to be 
used as the go-between in a case of blackmail. 

Jimmy F. : Huckleberry Inn is all right! On acocunt of its re- 
spectability it is being used. I know the manager well, and he is un- 
consciously the dupe of the blackmailers. Of course, you know 
Huckleberry Inn is my address until I sail for South America. Call 
me as soon as you're ready to start, and be sure the old boat has 
enough gasoline." (EXEUNT.) 



ACT V. 

Scene — Huckiobcrry Inn. 

Enter — Mae and Bozie. 

Mae: Well, thank gracious half the trip is over! Now, if that 
boy ever gets the motor car in serviceable shape we can be on our way 
and meet Mr. Arthur at the appointed rendezvous. 

Bozie: The little motor you speak so sneeringly of is ready! The 
car is nothing more or less than a peaceful Henry, but still it has a 
little motor of its o^^^l. The driver of the little motor car is over the 
v,-ay getting a bite to eat. Don't grow impatient, you'll be married 
soon enough, and perhaps long enough to suit you ! 

Mae: You are rude, Bozie! Have you been drinking? You are 
inclined to be impertinent, and over liberal with your views. 

Bozie: No, but I've been through enough to set me drinking! 
Dear little lady, you are excited. You must not lose sight of the fact 
that we have had no word as yet from Mr. Arthur, and you are not 
willing to allow enough time for the clerk to even be in receipt of ad- 
vices from your husband-to-be. If we don't see or hear from him 
there is only one thing left for use to do. 

Mae: Only one thing? 

Bozie: Yes, only one thing! Go back to old man Willis! 

Mae: Not for a million pounds! 

Bozie: Oh, is that so! Well, I'll take a stroll and see how the land 
lavs. In a few minutes I'll be ready to receive the cash from Mr. 
Clerk. 

Enter — Arthur. 

Arthur: The train porter handed me your note at Fenchurch Dale, 
and I had to jump to make it. I landed in a ditch, but fortunately it 
was dry! Not hurt a bit! Just worried to death that you weren't 
faring exactly right. Don't worry, things'll be all right from now on. 
All our troubles are over. 

Mae: Oh, darling, how fortunate! Just when everything looked 
blackest and ever>i;hing going wrong you appear on the scene, and 
then again the sky begins to get blue and the evening moon begins to 
smile. Jimmy Forbes played us a nasty trick in the matter of bank 
vouchers. He gives a check which was returned by the bank with 
the notation on the reverse "NOT SUFFICIENT FUNDS," and I hard- 
ly knew what course to pursue, until I wrote you the note. 

Arthur: NOT SUFFICIENT FUNDS. A low down caddish 
trick. Let us forget him. Let us banish all care from our minds. 
We must think of the nice things from now on. We must think of 
love and happiness. For, darling, I love you with all my heart, and 
it shall be the aim of my life to make you happy, happy, the happiest 
woman in the world. I believe I hear some one coming in our direc- 
tion. Let's take the big sofa in the corner. 

Enter: Willis (overcharged with excitement). 

Willis: While Jimmy goes pirooting around the bar and dining 
room I'll do some scouting around here. Blackmailers — ugh! I want 
to eat them alive. What the devil — (rubs his eyes). Well, I'll be 
damned! What's that over in the corner? My son and daughter; 
What under the sun brings them here ? 

Mae: Too late, Arthur. I am certain he sees us. Look at him! 
Gliding behind those palms. He's a nasty womanish old spy cat! 

Willis: (Uncovering himself.) He's a nasty wom.anish old spy 
cat! Is he? So he is, eh? 

Mae: (Screams.) 

Arthur: The jig is up! 

— 89 — 



Willis: Now, tell me what this means, sir? And be careful you 
speak the truth! Tell me, first, why you are not on your way to camp, 
and you. Miss, what have you to say for yourself? 

Arthur: Our answer would only vex you without giving any real 
information. 

Willis: (In a rage.) None of your higfalutin talk, you puppy, 
you, you — (An awful racket outside in the hall.) By George, I bet 
Jimmy Forbes has our dynamiter. 

Arthur: What's he doing here? 

Willis: I brought him here for supper, but this is now his abode. 

Arthur: Then he is a low down whelp, and I shall do for him now 
(Cries from without — stop him! Stop him!) 

Willis: (In his haste shoves both Arthur and Mae backwards onto 
the sofa.) Out of my way. The blackmailer is escaping. My 
$500.00, too! 

Enter — Baggage Porter dragging in Bozie. 

Porter: It's all right, boss. We've got him. Got him tight, too. 
He came up to the desk, and, of course, I was hanging around handy- 
like, when this bloke comes a crushing through and up, and says to the 
clerk fork over that $500.00, old "Room and Bath." 

Jimmy F.: Drag him along. Hold his head up. He's coming too 
now. Thought he was knocked out! 

Porter: Knocked out nothing! Why, I only hit him with a ham- 
mer! 

Jimmy F.: Hold his head up so as we can get a peep at him. Good 
God, man, it's my old Bozie. It's my Bozie. Oh, Bozie, Bozie, speak 
to your old pal! Wake up, Bozie, say ye know me, Bozie. Speak to 
Master. Old Jim Jams, this is Jimmy. Bozie what have they done to 
you? (Jimmy's voice trembles.) Tell me what it's all about? You 
know me, don't you, Bozie? Say you know me; What's wi'ong old 
pal, speak up! 

Bozie: I am the chaperone, and she is the bride (singing de- 
liriously), and there I was waiting at the church. 

Jimmy: The blow has affected his reason! 

Arthur: (Breaking through ci-owd.) But not my reason, sir! 

Jimmy: My dear old Arthur — 

Arthur: Don't dear old Arthur me! I know you and your games. 
You fourflusher. A check to a friend to come back marked NOT SUF- 
FICIENT FUNDS. 

Jimmy F.: Let me explain? Give me a chance? 

Arthur: Enough said! No explanations wanted! 

Willis: I chased the villain as far as the livery stable, and I no 
sooner put my hands on him than he biffed me in the eye.. (Seizes 
the Porter.) So you caught him after all, did you, Jimmy? (Pum- 
mels the porter.) 

Porter: What the hell is all this about? Let me up! 

Jimmy F.: Mr. Willis, cease your fighting! The time has now 
arrived for explanations! Will you hear them? 

Willis: I'll hear nothing. My $500.00! My $500.00! That's 
what I'll hear, and not another damned thing. 

Jimmy F.: (To Mae.) Will you listen to reason ? 

Mae: I am beyond that stage! 

Jimmy F,: (To Bozie.) Bozie, let me explain the whole thing to 
you. 

Bozie : Too late. Sime one bit me on the ear. Nasty trick, I say. 
(Singing incoherently.) There was a row in Silver Street — 

Jimmy F.: Will nobody listen? (To Porter.) Old man, I know 
you will think it strange when I tell you — 

— 40 — 



Porter: I'm all in, down and out. I've had enough for a year! 
Don't tell me anything! 

Willis: My daughter, come and make a clean breast of the whole 
affair. What's up? What's wrong? What's the game? 

Mae: (Crying.) Oh, I am in a most unfortunate predicament. 
Before you stands the cause of all your trouble. I entered your home 
under false pretenses. I am not your daughter. I am a deceitful — 

Willis: Good Lord! Not my daughter. Give her air, she's about 
to faint. (Waves everyone present aside.) 

Jimmy F.: Lay her on the sofa. No, let's bring her out on the 
porch. 

Willis: Take the blessed little creature out into the air. Why, I 
wouldn't hurt a hair on her head. She's going to be my daughter after 
all. Yes, she's going to be — Woe to that Arthur if he has trifled 
with this angel! (EXEUNT ALL BUT WILLIS.) 

Willis: (Mopping brow with handkerchief. Fanning himself 
with hat.) Well, at last the cat's out of the bag. So the rascal did 
not go to London at all. Met her in Queensto\\Ti and brought her 
home! Runaway business! I, too, ran away with Mrs. Willis. What 
a charming girl was my darling wife! I must phone Mrs. Willis the 
good news. 

Enter — Bozie. 

(Eye partly blacked and a piece of sticking plaster on cheek.) 

Bozie: I'm all O. K. again. And who do you think has just come 
in for a chicken sandwich ? 

Willis: Don't think anything about anybody. Don't you see that I 
am in feverish haste to telephone Mrs. Willis. 

Bozie: Sir Bridgewater Forbes and Miss Lloyd. Yes, they'i-e 
outside looking on at the excitement. 

Willis: Have them wait till I get through; one thing at a time. 
I've got to talk to Mrs. Willis, and must have a clear head to go 
through the conversation with Mrs. Willis. So hold your infernal 
tongue! 

Willis: (At the phone. Hello, central, give me Grammercy No. 

1567. Grammercy 1 5 6 7. Hello, no , no, I want 

No. 1 .5 6 7, and that's not the number asked for. None of your im- 
pudence. You're ringing. I ought to be ringing your neck. Do you 
know who I am? Line's busy. You're a lie — ,Hello, is that Gram- 
mercy 15 6 7? Well, who is that at the phone? (Deeply sar- 
castic.) Yes, I are there. You infenial boob, call Mrs. Willis, and 
do it P. D. Q. What? Hello, are you there? Well, wouldn't that 
jar you. Yes, yes, this is me, this is he, Mr. Willis. Keep quiet one 
mornent for the love of Mike till I tell you the news. Arthur and Mae 
are going to be married. No, Madam, I am not drunk. Arthur and 
Mae are — No, they are not drunk either. No, I'm no damned old 
fool. (Raging.) No, I'm no damned old fool. If ever there was in- 
sanity, thank the Lord it's not on my side of the house. At Huckle- 
berry Inn, in the main parlor, with Jimmy Forbes. Now you know I 
am drunk. Jimmy is out on the balcony. Sure he can get up. He 
is not laying down. Jimmy is on the balcony with Mae. You're in- 
sulting. Madam. A bit too far ? I am as sober as you are. I am not 
crazy. Don't act like a fool! Calm yourself. For the love of Mike, 
how did it get in? Try your best and lose it on the road. Be care- 
ful of him! Yes, we have his number up here. You'd better tell him 
to be a bit leary with ambassadorships. Captain Saunders, did you 
say? Captain Bull is what I say. You can't come? You have no 
clothes? Well come without clothes. It doesn't make any difference. 
This is New York. Well, wear an extra coat of paint, that'll do. But 
come on out at once and shut your mouth. Yes, Arthur and Mae. No, 

— 41 — 



she's not your daughter. Damned if I know. I'll ask her in a minute 
myself. If you want to do any cross-examining come on out yourself. 
I'm out of it. Good-by. (Aside.) And there's another fool outside 
waiting, just a champing at the bit, to put himself in my fix. Oh, Ma. 

Enter — Bridgewater Forbes and Grace Lloyd. 

Sir B, F.: And how came you with the intelligence that my 
nephew, Jimmy Forbes, had taken up his abode at this place? 

Grace: Through the Backstairs and Kitchen Wireless. 

Sir B. F.: Good, very good! Jolly clever, don't you know ? Rich, 
awfully good! 

Grace: My dear guardian (to Willis), what are you doing here? 

Willis: I have as much right here to-night as you. I came here 
with Jimmy Forbes on business, and I find my boy ready to be mar- 
ried to a woman of whom I know very little. 

Sir B. F.: Though a stranger to you, let me ofl'er the assurance 
that you'll not regret having this young woman for a daughter. She 
comes of an excellent family, of Athlone. Her father, I knew him 
quite intimately. He shed no disgrace on Ireland, and he was an 
honor to all England. I had the story from Bobs, the Grand Old Man 
of the English Army, just before he died in Flanders. It seems that 
on the third day at Spionkop the Dublin Fusiliers were caught in a 
bally tight place. The poor beggars were being peppered from behind 
rock and bush, and things looked very squally for the whole outfit. 
Well, one of the old style machine guns jammed, and it was seen that 
the Dublin gang was in for a lacing. In fact, they were to be wiped 
out clean. When the gun jammed the crew gave it up as a bad job. 
Well, to make a long story short, a chap by the name of Willard, 
Billis, or Trillis, some such fool name, the name is of no importance, 
who was the Captain of Company K, starts out across that living hell 
to recover the gun. Bah Jove, miraculous to relate, he reaches the 
gun, and is on his way back to the lines when he falls into a hole and 
snaps his blooming leg right at the ankle. Well, the crowd was a-bent 
on rescue, but this fighting rascal of K. Company shouts, "Never mind, 
boys, I am done for. Good-by." Now comes a long rangy Blighter, 
Captain of Company D. This is the chap everyone in the regiment 
used to call "legs." Well, 'pon my word, if the long beggar don't go 
stalking straight across the field yelling defiance to the whole bloom- 
ing Boer Ai-my. He was an Athlone man, powerful as an ox. And 
bless us, there he was a-coming back across that bullet-swept field with 
this chap Willis, or Trillis, or some such confounded name, on his back. 
The tufts of grass were being throwTi up all around 'em, but not once 
did he falter with his burden. Just kept on a-coming, and just as they 
were about to reach the lines in safety, a shell from behind the knoll 
finished the two of them at one bally pop. They died in each other's 
arms. Neither one ever knew what hit them. That long rangy man 
from Athlone left one little daughter, aged two, at the time he was 
killed, and the now young lady whom your son is going to marry is 
the daughter of that hero from Athlone. His name, oh, yes, his name, 
I nearly forgot that, his name was Edward Thomas Tuckei'man. 

Willis: Captain TuckeiTnan, of Company D. Big Edward John of 
Athlone, on the Shannon? 

Sir B. F.: None other, sir. Were you acquainted? 
Willis: (Tear or two stealing down his cheek.) Yes, I knew him, 
and knew him well. The chap he tried to save was my youngest 
brother. My little Tommy! He was the youngest of the family, sir. 
but died a-fighting for the Empire. Allow me to introduce myself. I 
am George Hammond Willis, and am I to understand that you are Sir 
Bridgewater Forbes? 

— 42 — 



Sir B. F.: None other, sir! 

Willis: Then I am happy and most fortunate in having met you 
this night. You are undoubtedly well acquainted with Captain Saun- 
ders? 

Sir B. F.: I know him well enough to declare that he is an arrant 
humbug. You say he is accompanying Mrs. Willis out in the motor? 

Willis: Yes, they should be here any minute now. 

Sir B. F.: Well, in that event I shall see that Captain 'Saunders 
is introduced in a manner beiitting his true position. I am determmed 
to unmask this pretentious humbug, so mum's the word. 

Enter — Jimmy Forbes, 

Grace: Jimmy, are you as set in your intentions of going to South 
America as you were the last time we met? 

Jimmy: More than ever, and with the break of day I leave. In 
going I feel a certain sense of happiness in that I was instrumental 
in placing you under the care of one whom not only loves you, but is 
loved in return. . ,, ,, . 

Grace: Are you certain, Jimmy, that this gentleman is all that 

you describe him? . 

Jimmy: He is as true as steel. He deserves happiness. As for 
me I am a down and outer, and the only happiness coming my way is 
to o-o away and forget. What may I expect by staying in America ? 

Grace: Many things. There may be some one who'll ne'er forget 
you! May even love you. tt • i. v, 

Jimmy: Oh, I am going to take old Bozie with me. He is to be 
somev/hat of a handv man about. My dog I shall also take. 

Grace: Can nothing swerve you from your purpose? 

Jimmy: Nothing on earth. I am going to South America for 
good and for all. And before going I have a confession to make. For 
what I am about to say don't think me forward nor presumptious. 1 
once thought I loved you. Grace, while pleading the cause of another 
my heart was almost to a breaking point with my o\\ni passion— my 
own love. But somehow or other I seemed to catch myself, as it were, 
and realize how unworthv I was in your eyes. But all this is beyond 
us. Ihey were pleasant thoughts, but my friendship and profound 
esteem for you forbade their utterance. It shall ever be so. 

Grace: Jimmy. Oh you! Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy (shrieks), Jimmy, you 
shoclc mo 

Jimmv: Sorry, I am sorry, Grace. I did not mean to wound your 
feelings. 'Please forgive me for what I said. Good-by! Good-by! 1 
must be looking after some luggage. (Waving from staircase.) 

(r^Xli .; 

Grace: Jimmy, don't say good-by! Oh, Jimmy, what have I 
done? 

Enter— Mrs. Willis and Captain Saunders. 

Mrs Willis: Where is that husband of mine? What on earth 
is the matter? Tell me all! Oh, Captain Saunders, advise me in my 
predicament. Tell me all! She may be one of those charity bazar 
widows making a man drive! . 

Captain Saunders: To be sure, to be sure. Will straighten mattei 
out in a few minutes. Man of business. Who is the lady taking ad- 
vantage of this boy? Will phone Secretary Baker this very night. 
The wedding can't go on. Who vouches for the ady? Who knows 
anything of her? Who is she? What is she? foreign women con- 
ceal their past, while American women conceal their age. 

Arthur: Be careful, sir. 

— 43 — 



Sir B. F.: I am very well acquainted with the young lady, sir, and 
I can vouch for her character and standing. 

Captain Saunders: Rich! Too good for anything! You vouch 
for the young lady, but who vouches for you, sir? Who are you, sir? 
Oh, so you're the chap I gave the letter of introduction to, yes, to Sir 
Bridgewater Forbes up in Boston or Halifax. What did old Bilgewater 
say? Drunk as usual? 

Sir 15. F.: After reading your letter of introduction he ushered 
me out of the office, saying you were an entire stranger to him. 

Captain Saunders: Just like old Bilgewater. Then he paid some 
attention to my wire which of course anticipated your arrival. 

Sir B. F. : Your wire ! Did you send him a telegram after writing 
out a letter of introduction ? 

Captain Saunders: Yes, my wire. I told him to beware of graft- 
ers, and keep the safe locked. 

Sir B. F.: So you did, sir. 

Captain Saunders: And it is now time that this company should 
know who is who. My name is Captain Saunders, Captain Matthew 
John Saundei's, and your's, sir, I say again, sir, yours ? 

Sir B. F.: I am Sir Bridgewater Forbes! 

Willis: (Threateningly to Saunders.) Damned old fakir, and 1 
knew it all along, but was afraid to say anything about you on account 
of Mrs. Willis. 

Mrs, Wiilis: Who, me? Listen to that most base fabrication. 
Why, I only tolerated the chattering monkey because his chatter kept 
my mind off you. 

Captain Saunders: Ladies and gentlemen, I see this is no place 
for me. With your kind permission I'll retire. The weather is rather 
threatening — things are beginning to cloud up. 

Sir B. F.: More than the weather is threatening, I assure you. 
Captain Saunders, you'll kindly remain until my nephew has a chance 
to talk to you. (To porter.) Kindly ask Mr. Forbes to step down 
from his room for a few minutes. 

Enter — Bozie, 

Bozie: (From staircase.) Master Jimmy got the message all 
right, but begs to be excused. You know we both go away this night. 

Sir B. F.: Bozie, he must appear! That's positive! Discretion, 
but force if it is necessary. 

Enter — Jimmy. 

Jimmy F.: (On staircase — ^near bottom.) Say, does this gang 
know I'm busy as the old devil ? Actually I'm on my way to South 
America. Gee whiz, you folks are sure going to have some jamboree! 
When this crowd is about recovering from their headaches I'll be 
walking the deck thinking of the girl I left behind me. (Goes over to 
where champagne is in the buckets.) Plenty of wine, women and 
song, too. No more wine for little Jimmy. Wine, women and song 
days are over. Talking about drinking wine, they say that's where 
the Forbes shines. Bozie was telling me of an uncle of mine, great 
old codger, too, I bet, that got away with twenty-one pints in an eve- 
ning. Oh my, I say Willis, it is a darned good thing for your party 
that my uncle isn't about. He'd about cripple the wine supply. Gee! 
How I'd like to hear one cork pop. Oh, I say, isn't it a good feeling 
when the grape bubbles hit you on the bottom of the nose. Nothing 
in the world like it. Good night, folks. Good-by everybody. Good 
luck everybody. There are somethings a fellow will forget, but I'll 
never forget the good old U. S. A. Now, good-by everybody, even to 
old Baldy in the comer. 

— 44 — 



Sir B. F.: Egad, that's me! 

Willis: Here comes the preacher! 

Sir B. F.: Before the preacher begins may I have a few words to 
say to this young man. . , , ^i 

Jimmy F.: Look a-here Old Scout, shoot, and don't delay the 
game. I'm in an awful hurry and am very busy. Now, let's hear your 
tale of woe. Shoot, we start for South America to-morrow! 

Arthur: Yes, my" dear friend, don't delay the game. Hurry your 
sermon along! 

Sir B. F.: Mr. James Forbes, son of the late Thorncliffe Forbes, 
of Kent Downs House, before you stands your uncle. Sir Bridgewater 
Forbes. For some time I've been your shadow man. I have been 
witness to your deeds of folly, and know well of your Broadway 
escapades. Further, I have your White Way record. For a short time 
I believe a certain bank advertised on the back of your checks that 
there were NOT SUFFICIENT FUNDS to pay your checks as they 
were presented. But all that is past. From now on I will see that 
you have a balance on hand. Let us forget the past. You are to 
start anew, and need I say how proud I am to see you determined upon 
a new life. As my nephew, as little Jimsy Jim, I love you. As a 
British soldier you did honor to the Forbes name, and I want you to 
make that name good in old New York. 

Jimmy F.: Uncle, where did you come from? (Overwhelmed.) 
Oh, uncle* I'm so happy. Uncle, my hand on it. A new Jimmy 
Forbes. No longer old Jimmy. I shall try and live up to the name 
of Forbes, as some of the other Forbes have done. Before I say good 
night, or good-by again, there is some one present for whom I must 
say a word. That's my old friend Captain Saunders, the man who 
bestowed on me the greatest favor one man ever did another. 

Captain Saunders: None of that, sir! Before you stands the 
greatest liar in the United States. I am a charter member of the 
Ananias Club. I am now ready to retire, but before so doing, let me 
tell this boy the truth. Jimmy ^ my boy, it was not I who helped you 
out of the scrape. The one responsible for your release is none other 
than the fair Miss Lloyd. Gentlemen, I must be going. The night air 
doesnt' agree with me. (EXIT.) 

Jimmy F.: What a fool I've been! Grace, my darling, may I 
explain something to you? Please come this way, as I want to say 
something very particular to you. Oh, darling, if you only knew! 

Enter — French Officer. 

(Small French poodle dog runs in.) 

French Officer: Willees, Willees, Willees, come here. Monsieur 
Willees, come to ze Mastaire. Oui, pardon Mademoiselle, mille pardon. 
I look for Willees. He is ze great pet. t , ^ 9 

Willis: (Truculently.) I am Willis, sir. What can I do for you .' 
This is a private family affair. ^ . . .. ■ xt 

Officer: How come they say ze family affair is private m ze JNe\\ 
York. Zazz is not my understanding. In New York nozzmg is pri- 
vate but ze divorce court. 

Willis: I am Willis, sir. . 

Officer: You give me ze great pain. Willees, he is my dog, a ver 
fine dog. Ze dawg he escape from Madam's boudoir, and I am 
make chase for him. I ver sorry to make intrude on ze private family 
affair. Pardon, I mean no insult. 

Willis: All right Foch, old top. Say, if you want to do me a 
favor, I wish you'd call that pup of yours something besides Willis. 

Officer: Nevair will I change ze cognomen of ze dawg. Ze 
dawg he occupy great honor wiz ze name of Willees. I baptize ze dog 

— 45 — 



Willees in honor of my fazzer in law, who is ze prominent citizen of 
New York. I came to see heem in ees ouze on ze Hudson, but ze but- 
laire say he ees gone to keel a man. I inform my wife her fazzer after 
me, so I make escape and come to this contree hotel. Maybe, I say, 
I am ze man! Permit me. Monsieur, my card, Captain Sidney Mioton. 

Willis: Great Scott, old man, you are my son-in-law! 

Officer: Ees it possible. (Kisses Willis on one cheek, then on 
the other, before he can make protest.) 

Willis: (Wiping cheeks.) Say, don't you ever do that again. Son- 
in-law or no, son-in-law! 

Officer: I bring ze Madam Mioton to you. She ees angelique. 
Where is my Mozzer? I must kiss my American Mozzer. (Kisses 
Mrs. Willis long and affectionately. (EXIT.) 

Willis: Talk about war for excitement. How about this little 
affair ? 

Enter — Captain and Mrs. Mioton, 

(The young lady endeavoring to kiss both parents and brother at 
one time.) 

Willis: (Officer starts towards Willis.) Don't ever try any of 
that kissing game again with me. 

Enter — Preacher. 

Arthur: Hurrah, at last the preacher. Now, let's get busy, or 
something else will happen! 

Sir B. F.: It's a pity you didn't get a license, Jimmy, and we 
could get through with the whole affair in one grand night. 

Jimmy: It's not the license, uncle dear. You knovv^ in my bank 
there are NOT SUFFICIENT FUNDS. 

Sir B. F,: Fiddlesticks. But in my old Midlands County Bank in 
dear old London there's more than enough, and who do you think that 
is for, my boy? Why, Jimsy Jim, that's for you and all the little 
Jimsy Jims you may have in the future. (To preacher.) I say there, 
my good man, have you such a thing as an extra license about you? 

Preacher: Yes, sir. I reckons I have, being as I am the preacher, 
justice of the peace, constable and coroner of this here township of 
Huckleberry. I allers carry 'em, as ther never is no tellin' when one 
starts where it'll end. Here's your license. Now, let's get the name 
of the the tv/o contracting parties. I calculate to make this a double 
job, as I am hard pressed for time this evening. I promised my old 
friend, George Stem, I'd pass by and see what's ailing his new Jersey 
heiffer. So, young folks, gather around and be sure you all got your 
right partners, for when I joins together it's for keeps. (Couples get 
together after much confusion.) 

Sir B. F.: Parson, do a good job! 

Preacher: I'll give 'em the ironclad ceremony. I alius do. This 
is some grand alliance. A Johnny Bull and an American gal. An 
Uncle Sammy with an Irish colleen. And what about you. Napoleon ? 
You've got that job done in London? Well, step in line, and get it 
done in true American style. You can't be married too tight nowa- 
days, especially if you're a soldier. 

Sir B. F.: I say, Willis, get some waiters up here. And I say, 
old blinker, I say, don't you think we'd better have a bit more wine 
up for the evening ? 

Willis: As you say, sir. This is as much your party as mine, 
sir. 

Jimmy: Uncle, Grace wants to kiss you novv-, because Bozie told 
her you would be dangerous after the tenth pint. 

— 46 — 



Sir B. F.: I'm going to kiss all the girls now, because there's no 
telling what I'll be doing in the next hour. . . , 

Preacher: Now for the line-up. You folks as are aiming to get 
married so we can put an end to all your troubles for now and ever- 
more. , , • -M HT 

Willis: Their troubles are just about to begin. Now, Mr. 
Preacher, begin. . 

Sir B. F.: Start things, your reverence, as I'm jolly well parched 
for a glass of wine, and delays are dangerous in the marriage game. 

Enter: Bozie and Fleet loaded down with trays and glasses. 



— 47 — 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



016 103 681 ft 



